


Don't Call Me That

by OhBelieveYouMe



Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Domestic Violence, Epic Friendship, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gang Violence, Jealousy, Magic Fingers, Recreational Drug Use, References to Drugs, Smut, Sugar Daddy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 83,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7913713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s funny, everyone would think you wouldn’t be afraid of Nevada, considering how much he took care of you girls. You’ve known him and grown up with his family ever since you and his sister, Natalia, became inseparable friends back in grade school. On the contrary, though; your close proximity to his dark heart just made you all the more aware of exactly why he was one of the most feared men in The Heights.</p><p>Warnings: Violence (including domestic), some light smutty stuff, promiscuity, cursing, drug use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new lil' something, not all that sure where it's headed or how far it's going. Finally watched Trouble in the Heights and well... I had to.

She handed you her phone, while sniffling and making futile attempts to clean the blood from her nose with her other hand. Poor thing looked awful. The two of you were huddled under a tree, shivering from the cold infiltrating your possibly too-short dresses, having left the club in a mad-dash after her current beau landed a couple good fists on her face. It must have been a sight, you thought absently; two waifs of girls clattering down the street at full speed in their heels. It had been your idea to put them to better use- you had hurled your knock off Louis Vuittons at your pursuers as soon as you realized they were still chasing. 

These men had balls. Well, it was either bravado or idiocy, you weren’t sure. They knew who she was, what the name Ramirez meant. The thugs had invited you two back after an hour or so of dancing, Natalia trusted the larger one and you always felt just slightly invincible with her- maybe too invincible. Nobody could touch her, or at least you thought nobody ever would. Until her 'friend' had tried to push his curious hands a bit too far in a place just a bit too public. Natalia had denied him, closing her knees tight enough to hold a nickel between them, and he simply did not approve. Chaos had ensued from there. 

"Nevada," your best friend whimpered pathetically while flipping her hair to one side of her bruised face. "Call Nevada, he'll freak if he hears me crying first thing." You nodded knowingly, she was right- his sisters were his only soft spot you knew of. 

"Okay, Natalia, calm down," You pulled her against you, leaning back against the tree so she could cry in your lap instead of in the wet grass. You two had been best friends since you were children, inseparable since grade school. You'd gone through everything together, from boys to schools, from notebooks to lines of coke. Smoking weed in the back yard, delivering drugs for new jewelry, trading pills and crushing a few so they hit quicker. Most everything either of you did, it was done together- and now would not be any different. You got her. 

"Ay, Nat;" You could barely hear his smooth voice over the rumble of the music, he must be out tonight. "This better be good, your hermano is busy over here." 

"Nevada," You began briefly, but he interrupted you before you could continue-

" _Your Name_?" He recognized you. He always did. You've had dinner with his family, helped Natalia do her hair for prom, hid rolls of cash up your dress while he drove you two to the next spot, partied with them all your adult life. Hell, his mother had even made him take you to a high school dance when your date ditched while you were waiting and wailing with his sisters. "Where's Natalia?" 

"Nevada, we need you," You were trying to stay hushed, lest the men from the club still be searching for you. Hopefully, they were smarter than that, everyone knew Natalia only had to make a call to ignite her brother. "Nat's boyfriend got upset at the club and we need to get her home." 

The music lessened, he must have gone somewhere quieter. "Upset? What did he do?" You stammered, not sure how heated you wanted to get him before he promised to come pick you up; "Did he fucking touch her?" 

"He pummeled her, Vada-"

"Don't call me that." He hated when any of you called him that, the nickname Natalia had blessed him with when she was all of two years old. "Where the fuck is he?" 

"Fuck him- later, we need you now." Not many argued with Nevada Ramirez, but your slight immunity was getting used to the greatest extent you could push it. Realizing you may not be able to pry him from revenge, you handed the phone down to your injured friend who had her head lying across your lap. She could convince him. He always bent for her, or any of his sisters. Her blood reddened your thighs, but you already had it all over your hands anyway, and the mess grew larger as you tried to console her by brushing through her dark curls with your fingers. 

"Ne-va-da," It took her nearly thirty seconds just to manage the three syllables. She was nasally, from her crying and the likely broken nose, and you still questioned how much damage had happened to her jaw when she fell and hit the pole lining out the VIP section. 

He was shouting, so loud she had to hold the phone away from her ear until she couldn't take it any longer. "Vada, I didn't do nothin’," Her tears were back, "he just flipped, he tried to put a hand up my skirt and-" Silence. Eerie, scary silence until you heard a succinct, muffled... something. Natalia obediently raised the phone into the air, handing it back to you. Apparently it was your name. 

"Where are you?" Nevada asked the second he heard you breathing. He had a knack for that, catching anyone by surprise in the mildest ways. Kept you all on your toes. 

"Corner of Washington and Rural," You squinted to see the signs at the nearest traffic light. "We're hiding behind some trees by the road." 

He laughed, a guttural dark noise you'd struggle to even call human. He was pissed. "Get the fuck up, a Ramirez don't hide from no one," scratch that, he was furious, you could tell. "I'm on my way, if they come back you fuckin' tell them Nevada is coming, you got it?" 

"Yea, Nevada, yea," You weren't going to get up. He was bold, but you were smart. You were going to wait your ass right there and hold onto Natalia until the black escalade rolled up. 

" _Your Name_ ," He added softly, "did they hurt you?" 

"Nah, Vada," Flinch; correction, "Nah, Nevada, just maybe sprained my wrist." One had snagged at you when you went to defend Natalia, as if you would have really done any damage to the 6 foot 3 brute with his hands around her throat. 

Heavy breathing, and then the rev of an engine; "I'm comin." He hung up, and you dropped the phone alongside you before gathering Natalia up in your arms again. She cried on your shoulder, crimson from her nostril dripping a single line of blood down your back. You tugged at the hem of her dress to as it rode up, trying to maintain the little bit of modesty she still had, even in the shadows. 

"It's okay, Nat, Nevada's comin’," You whispered softly, hugging the lissome little brunette as she curled up to wait with you. Everything was going to be okay now; everything was always okay once Nevada got involved. It had to be, or else he'd make sure it was. At least he always would for Natalia- always. "Nevada's comin’." 


	2. Chapter 2

"Natalia," He shouted her name impatiently, ruining the point of your hiding place, waking both of you from the light slumber you had fallen into. It couldn't have been thirty minutes since you called, but four AM was creeping up and you both had had a bit to drink before the hide n seek had started. " _Your Name_ , Nat, where the fuck are you?" 

"Nevada!" You jutted an arm up and waved it from behind your tree, trying to rouse sleepy Natalia while doing so. Using the tree to support your back, you managed to pull yourself to your feet, and you winced while using your bad wrist to try and pull Natalia to hers. 

In lieu of his typical stroll, Nevada came by in hurried steps- you could hear his boots crush the grass beneath them. Even nature bent to his will. "What the fuck are you doing?" He cursed again in Spanish while extracting his little sister from your arms. "Are you trying to break your wrist? Fuckin' stop it." You yelped when he literally slapped at your hands to force you to drop Natalia into his own. 

He smelled like booze and cigars, but what else was new? "I was just helping her, she knocked her skull on a pole," you offered as an explanation as you let him assist her over to the car. It wasn’t worth arguing over- you saved your pushing for when you needed it. 

Finally, Nevada looked back at you, walking along through the grass rubbing your wrist and carrying both purses. "Where the fuck are your shoes?" He asked curiously when he noticed exactly how short you were compared to him. He had propped Natalia up in the back seat before you made it up next to him. 

At least his first question for you was an easy one; "I threw 'em." 

"Threw 'em where?" He perked an eyebrow, looking you up and down again before opening the door to the back seat for you to get in and join his sister. "You look like a child." 

You glared, his comment didn't settle with you well; "I threw 'em at the guys..." 

A sudden look of cheer came over his face, was he impressed? He pinched your cheek before patting where his fingers had been- "Atta girl." Nevada slammed the door shortly afterwards, and Natalia lay across to put her head back into your lap. Nevada continued praising you to his friend in the front seat, "That's my girls, you hear her? She threw 'em, perra loca." Nat was quiet, likely dizzy and in pain- her brother must have thought the same, since he passed you back a baggy with little yellow pills inside. 

"One for you, two for her." He instructed before taking off into the street. You took two anyways, and broke Natalia's into four pieces before sitting her up just enough so you felt safe slipping them between her lips. He glared after you returned his baggie, but didn't mention your transgression out loud. "Druggie." 

"Just take me home," you weren't in the mood for his toying with you. 

He clicked his tongue before shaking his head; request rejected. "Nah, you're on my time now." You groaned, and leaned your head against the window. You knew better than to suggest otherwise, everyone did. 

"While we look for your friends," Nevada began to explain. You thought of mentioning how they weren't friends of yours at all, but the pit of your stomach told you he knew that already. "I need you to do a lil' something for me." 

"I don't wanna, make Nat do it." You knew he wouldn't, and you didn’t want him to, but it was the typical denial either of you threw out when he tried to force one of you into working for him when you didn't want to. Passing the buck. "I'm tired, Vada-"

"Don't fucking call me that." It was even worse when you used the nickname around his workers, and you obediently bit your tongue after his hiss of a warning. "I need Nat." He finally explained with a shrug before going on with his negotiations; "C'mon, they like you..." He winked and you only crunched your nose in disgust. You didn't want any of his colleagues to like you. "I'll buy you new shoes." 

Now, he had your attention. "Real ones?" You weren't going to waste your time with his business for another pair of knock off heels. Nevada knew you better than that, anyway, and the amused smirk that slid across his face made it clear. He’s taught you girls well. 

He nodded slowly, almost reassuringly, while looking at you in the rear view mirror to see exactly how convincing his offer had been. "Si, niñita, real ones." Nevada could see the cogs spinning in your head- he was getting to you. "Those pretty purple ones, you know which ones." 

Niñita: Little girl, you loathed when he referred to you as ‘little girl’. He may have known you since you were young, but you were not a little girl any more. "Don't call me that," you grunted while obstinately crossing your arms across your chest. If he was promising you gifts, he really wanted you to do this, so you figured you'd see how far you could push your luck. "And the clutch?" 

"You're getting greedy." He advised gruffly before chuckling and elbowing the other passenger. "These girls, they'll be the death of me, do you hear her?" He continued mocking you in a high-pitched voice to his body guard in the front seat; "Nevada, come save me; Nevada, give me drugs; Nevada, I want the clutch too..." 

You cut him off before he could use that annoying tone anymore; "What do I have ta do?" He convinced you. He knew he’d win. 

"You just go in, you talk to a gentleman, and he gives you a present for me." He threw his hands in the air. "Easiest job you've ever done." 

It wasn't. And you already knew no job for Nevada was ever really easy, just sometimes you got the most minimal part in it all. "You don't work with gentlemen." 

His tone lowered, and you thought for a moment that maybe you had offended him. It's not a good idea to offend Nevada Ramirez. "I am a gentleman, _Your Name_."

"Whatever you say," you had practically whispered it, but he apparently didn't care either way. The option was an illusion, after all. If he wanted you to do something for free, you’d end up doing it no matter how much mouth you gave him. Everyone did. Nevada pulled up in front of a large building, and he tapped at the window so you'd look out. Nothing all too different from what you were used to. 

"Go." Nevada finally instructed, the business tone you knew so well taking over. He was done chatting and your instructions were coming. "Meet me in fifteen or you get nothing." Easy enough. 

You wrapped Natalia's purse around her arm, and bent down to kiss her forehead before you squirmed out from beneath her. "It's rude to rush a lady." 

"You're no lady," He advised after stopping and having the other man open your door and assist you out of the escalade, "you're a niñita." 

You squint your eyes; the sun was starting to come up, which you hadn't quite noticed in the protection of the tinted windows. "Fuck you, Vada." 

He pursed his lips at you, blowing a dramatic kiss at your sneer before the window rolled up and the car drove away. You were still covered in Natalia's blood, barefoot and in a dress that had rode up your thighs. Nobody would question you, though. Nobody ever questioned who came for Nevada. You spun on your heel while wiggling to lower your skirt, surveying the large warehouse he had dropped you off in front of. It wasn't your first run for him, likely it also wouldn't be your last; and so you took a deep breath, pulled your hair back with the ponytail holder around your wrist, and made your way to the front door. 

You wanted those fucking shoes. 


	3. Chapter 3

Three knocks. Sometimes he told you how many times to rap at the door, sometimes he didn't, and whenever he didn't- you always chose three. It was your lucky number, you and Natalia had decided on that back when you were teenagers; hers was five. You stared down at your toes for a few minutes, bloody and dirty with bright green nail polish to match your sequin dress. 

The man who responded was surprisingly thin; thin and tall. You had to crane your neck to see his face, and he had an eyebrow raised while staring right back down at you. He didn't speak, they rarely did, and so you took the initiative upon yourself. 

"Nevada sent me," You placed hands on your hips, trying to look at least a little intimidating despite his chuckle. You've done this plenty before.

"He's sending his girls now?" Apparently this "gentleman" didn't know Nevada very well, or at least he hadn't had the pleasurable experience of seeing his prettier outsourcing. He opened the door and you strolled happily inside- Nevada knew you were there, and if you weren't out by the time he came back... well, they knew they didn't want him coming in after you. "Geeze, honey, what the hell happened to you? 

"Can we darse prisa con esto?" You asked with a hint of exhaustion, already too tired to be dealing with their smart comments. 

"What?" The stranger asked while letting you into the warehouse. It was always more fun when they didn't know Spanish- you and Natalia loved speaking below a radar.

You tapped your colored toes against the rock ground: "Hurry. Up."

\---

Nevada was already there waiting when you rushed out of the warehouse, and he rolled his window down to take a good look at your face. "Aight?" He asked simply, while motioning for you to get into the car. 

"Yea, yea, yea," You obediently took your spot in the back, and was delighted to see Natalia sitting up and wiping at herself with a wet washrag. Where did that come from? She winced a few times as she ran the rag over a cut in her arm- it was medicated. "Shhh," you whispered while dropping Nevada's bag onto the floor and scooting over so you could be closer to her. You took the rag from her hand, and went to work smudging the blood off of her pretty face. Natalia grinned in thanks, and gripped onto your thighs to steady herself as you cleaned her up. 

"Did you get it?" Nevada asked after giving you a couple seconds to work on tidying up his mess of a sister. You only nodded, assuming he was looking back at you anyways. To your shock, you heard a slight rustle in the back of the escalade once a speed bump was hit. Nosily, you peered over your seat and noticed two large somethings under black blankets. 

"Jesus, Nevada, are there people back there?" You gasped, quickly spinning in your seat so you couldn't claim to have been witness to whatever debauchery he had going on. Looking back over to a seemingly cheered up Natalia- you saw the familiar, devilish Ramirez Cheshire grin painted across her lips. That answered all the questions you could have come up with, and you leaned your head against her shoulder while giggling. Apparently, Nevada took care of you two's 'problem'. 

He answered you anyways, albeit not much of an answer in and of itself; "Don't fuckin worry about it." Another bump in the road came, and a groan of pain radiated from behind you. "I'm taking you two to Natalia's," Nevada finally confirmed while reaching behind his seat to grab the bag you had brought with you. He handed it off to his partner, who checked the contained goods carefully before nodding his approval. “Good girl,” he added in a complimentary fashion while reaching back to place his hand on your knee. His ring shone in the sunlight. 

You began to protest his executive decision, "I wanna go home, though-"

Nevada interrupted your complaint, while shaking his head to prove he was not up for discussion: "You're going to Natalia's." His grip tightened, sending fire and tickles through your veins- this time, you wouldn't argue.

\---

You woke up hours later, still lying on Natalia's couch. Sitting up, you realized she was on the opposite end, and you smiled to see her sleeping peacefully. Good. Cautiously so as not to rouse her, you slid yourself so her legs fell to inside the sofa, and you sat up just out of reach of her toes. Groaning through your headache, you placed your head in your hands, only to realize your wrist had been bandaged. Wracking your muddled brain, you tried to recall how you had gotten there; maybe you should have listened when Nevada told you to take only one pill. How did you get from the car to the apartment? 

Just another evening with Nevada. 

Your feet hit the hardwood, and you shivered when the cold ran up from your heels to your spine. Something else was there, though, and you opened your eyes to peek through your fingertips and take a look. It was a bag, a simple brown paper sack with “Niñita” lazily written across the top of the fold. A present? You curiously unfolded the opening before very carefully peering inside- surprises weren't always your favorite when it came to the Ramirez family. 

Inside, delicately placed with crumpled tissue paper, you found the prized vibrant purple shoes Nevada had promised you for your services. A smile beamed across your face as you carefully extracted them from the sack; they still had their tags on them, proving authenticity. He kept his word. You slid your foot inside to make sure they fit - of course they did. While admiring your toes in the shiny new leather, you accidentally kicked the bag and realized there was something else inside. You dug through the extra paper, thinking maybe he left you some money as well; it wasn't an oddity for him to leave you girls a couple bucks behind. 

Instead of a wad of cash, you were delighted to pull out the bright violet clutch that completed the set. Hugging your new goods to your chest, you bit on your bottom lip to keep from squealing and waking up your best friend. 

You knew Nevada would get it for you. He always did. 


	4. Chapter 4

"You two are fucking awful, you know that?" 

Too bad for Nevada, you were used to the verbal abuse. You and Natalia sat on the floor, puckering lips for painting and braiding hair while smoking a joint and admiring yourselves in the reflection of the floor length mirror she had in her apartment. "Do you have that pink gloss? The pretty one?" She asked you loudly, ignoring her brother's berating. 

"Yea," you handed off the tube you had just closed, some cheap drug store brand with the name 'coquette'. "I'm gonna wear that pink dress," you added informatively after pocketing a few things in your new purse. 

Natalia nodded at your reflection; "That'll be cute." She was always better at makeup than you had been, thankfully for her. The bruises from a few nights before were barely visible under her miracle contouring and foundation. 

"Can we hurry it up, ladies?" Nevada tapped at his watch, crouching so his reflection was undeniably visible in the mirror you two were busy in. 

"You can't rush beauty, Nevada," You teased after rising to your feet and sassily sashaying yourself his way. He roughly grabbed hold of your chin, raising your face until you thought he would pull you up off your toes. 

"You're already fucking beautiful," it didn't sound much like a compliment when he said it, "and I've got work to do;" He let you go, flitting fingers as he snarled a profanity in Spanish. You let him mumble, not all too concerned about his schedule, and went off to procure Natalia's pink dress you had mentioned. "You two are more trouble than you're worth sometimes, you know that?" 

"Calm down, Vada," Natalia chastised from the floor. She was already dressed, and working hard to lace up the strappy black heels she planned on wearing out. Nevada already told you two you were going to be his 'bunnies' for the evening- bait for the ‘foxes’ from out of town he planned on robbing. You weren't let in on the details, you never were, but you did know what the job description entailed. Also, he promised to pay your electric bill for the month if it all worked out. Quid Pro Quo. 

"Yea; calm down, Vada." You slipped on the violet shoes he had gotten you while sitting on Natalia's bed and safely shouting from the other room. Standing to check yourself, you smiled- you loved that pink dress. It made you look cute, not sexy or particularly raunchy like the sequin tube dresses that flooded your closet; a loose, flouncy skirt to contradict the dirt of the deed. 

"Don't call me thaaat," He groaned, massaging the bridge of his nose to relieve the headache you were convinced he was faking. Finally satisfied, Natalia hopped up to standing, and waited patiently by the kitchen table as you wandered out of her room. Nevada smirked, giving you an approving one-over before biting on the inside of his cheek, "Ay, mami." 

You did a small spin, it was fun to wear a skirt that moved with you when you had been in tight little dresses for the last couple weekends. Natalia cooed, again pretending her brother hadn't said anything. "I love you in that thing," she spoke before leaving a small complimentary peck on your cheek. "Let's go," now that you two were ready, you were eager to leave. 

"Finally, you two speak sense;" Nevada began to flip the lights, grabbing a few things out of a table and pocketing his gun. Natalia left first, and you were in hot pursuit after snatching your clutch from the couch. "Ay, ay, más rápido!" He shouted, before landing a heavy and carefully timed hand to smack your bare ass as he followed you out. 

You growled, immediately tugging at your skirt that had floated up while glaring over your shoulder back at him. Nevada simply shrugged- "Nice skirt, niñita." 

\---

The skirt was a bad idea. 

Sure, it was cute, and Natalia kept confirming and trying to soothe your worries during joint bathroom trips; but Nevada had accurately predicted the problem that would arise. Suddenly the tight dresses that at least provided complete coverage sounded pretty damn nice. Too many brave touches from the boys with English accents had found their way under the hem. They seemed to like how you blushed, or was it how you squirmed? 

You were perched on the lap of a delightful young man who said your name differently than you had ever heard it said before. British boys were fun. They liked buying you fruity drinks, and they thought it was cute when you and Natalia spoke in Spanish. If only the poor things knew what you were saying. 

Your seat's lips found the soft lobe of your ear, and you giggled flirtatiously as your eyelids fluttered. Grabbing hold of his tie, you pulled him closer, and his hand traveled up your thigh to hide just out of sight under your pink skirt. His kisses wandered, along your throat and down to your clavicle. Fingers slid dangerously further, until you could feel his knuckles skim the lace of your black panties. You jumped, squealing girlishly at the sudden touch, and he smiled against the skin on your chest. 

As his head went down, you were able to glance over him, and you saw an apparently agitated Nevada glaring at you from across the club. He knew he had your stare, he always seemed to know, and so he rolled his fingers in circles; the universal sign for 'hurry up.' You sneered right back, before moving the boy's face as his kisses tried to find their way a bit lower than your sternum. 

"Creo que está listo," You called out over to Natalia, who was seated between two other men with her legs dangling over one and her back leaned against the chest of the other. This was her limelight, hence why she took up the responsibility of the duo. She perked up, smiling and nodding over at you before placing a hand on her target's cheek so she could ease his ear towards her mouth. 

"Wanna come party somewhere a bit more," You were speaking directly to your boy, and his tightened grip on your thigh proved he was listening very, very well, "intimate?" 

\---

The room was ridiculously dark, to the point it was black and you couldn’t see, so you and Natalia joined hands so you'd be able to find the other if any chaos were to occur. You were used to this; it wasn't your first trap. The three boys followed you eagerly; yours had his fingertips tucked just under your own and was mere steps behind. The door slammed shut, and an intimidatingly audible lock snapped in place. You girls giggled. 

On the cue of a clap, the lights were flipped on, and the room flooded with crimson illumination. Stood feet in front of you was Nevada, who raised his hands high above him upon his grand reveal. His men littered the rest of the room, surrounding all of you in black suits and cigar smoke. "Hola!" He cheered joyously, and you felt the British boy who had your fingertips try to snag for your hand. 

Smart Natalia had already begun scurrying off, and you were following suit until you realized the frightened lad didn't intend on letting you go. "Ay, ay, no;" Nevada clicked his tongue and wagged a warning finger to and fro, walking over and slapping at his wrist so he obediently released you. "You don't get to keep what's not yours," he advised condescendingly, and moved you along quicker with his hand on the small of your back. "That's for me to do." 

Cohorts began to surround the foreigners, and Nevada proudly walked you and Natalia towards the other side of the large room. "Good girls," he praised you, kissing the tops of both of your heads before motioning one of his men to escort you out. 

Natalia went along, but you were stopped by Nevada's hand landing in the soft spot between your shoulder and your throat before she noticed. He bowed his chin, so his mouth nearly touched your ear, and whispered with enough conviction to counteract the chill of fear that had slid down your spine. "You know, _Your Name_ , you don't have to let them finger fuck you right in front of me." 

Your eyes went to a squint- what the fuck did he mean by that? You bounced your shoulder in an attempt to get out from under his palm, but he didn't move, and you could feel his eyes on you even though you couldn't see his face. It was almost as if you had upset him, but you hadn't done anything out of the normal- and you got your fox to the trap. "¿Estás celoso, Nevada?" You boldly whispered back, and the comment was returned with his hand tightening until your arm went numb and thought your skin would bruise. Almost as bad of a move as your choice of skirt. 

"¡Fuera de aquí, niñita." He shoved you along to an equally confused Natalia, nearly causing you to fall on your face while you tried to catch your footing in your heels. She caught your arm, balancing you before huddling up alongside you and rushing out of the building in the direction of the waiting body guards. 

"What the hell was that?" Natalia asked gently while smoothing your tresses, looking over her shoulder again to see her brother still leering after you two as you made your way to the car. 

"Fuck if I know,” you explained while lying your head against her shoulder, “su hermano está loco." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ay, ay, más rápido!" // "Ay, ay, faster!"  
> "Creo que está listo," // "I think he's ready,"  
> "Hola!" // "Hello!"  
> "¿Estás celoso, Nevada?" // "Are you jealous, Nevada?"  
> "¡Fuera de aquí, niñita." // "Get out of here, little girl."  
> “su hermano está loco." // "your brother is crazy."


	5. Chapter 5

Nevada had made a friend at the club.   
And by friend, you meant a redheaded whore.

Both you and Natalia watched with mild amusement from the backseat of the car as she squirmed precariously in his lap. One of his men was driving, he and her took the passenger seat, and per the usual- you two girls had chosen the back so you could lounge out. Natalia had her back against the door behind her brother, and you were on the opposite side, your legs tangled in the middle seat. The bust had been a success, or so Nevada said it was; he had dismissed you girls shortly after you coaxed the foreigners to the back room. 

He was whispering in her ear, and Natalia was trying not to suffocate from the cheap perfume wafting back into her seat. You raised an eyebrow as the new girl laughed; it was that shrill giggle of someone trying to flirt when they didn't have anything better to say. Nevada didn't mind, though, he only cared if you or his sister were being annoying. Something about her didn't seem right, though you couldn't quite place your finger on what. Was it how her hands slithered under his jacket, or how her fingertips somehow always seemed to be poking at his jeans? You didn't know. You really didn't care, either. 

You both heard him call her "Cariño", and simultaneously your eyes rolled. Natalia stuck a finger in her mouth, signaling how the pet name made her want to yak, and you both flooded the back seat with your giggling. 

"Ay, what's so fuckin funny?" Nevada could see you over his date's shoulder, and was now glaring hard enough to convince you to bite your lip and silence yourself. Upon his successful shushing, he turned back to his 'cariño' and kissed along her collar bone. "We're gonna go back to my place, have our own party-"

"Can you take us home then?" Natalia glanced out the window, realizing suddenly that you all were nearly to Nevada's already. 

"Too far, you'll stay at my place tonight," Nevada didn't like the idea of leaving you two alone the same night he used you as bait, but would rather mask the concern by being a stubborn big brother. "Don't mind the niñas," he added in a hot breath over his redhead's ear. Her eyelids closed as yours rolled again. 

\---

It was now three AM. Well, you guessed that. You couldn't find your phone. 

Your head fucking hurt, what did you do with your cell? Dumping out your clutch had done no good, and neither had checking Natalia's. She was still asleep across the sofa you two were sharing, but your rustling didn't seem to bother her. The only thought you had was that it could be in Nevada's room, you all had been smoking in there before he kicked you two out so he and his "Cariño" could have their own fun. Sure, you could have waited, but you had met someone interesting at the club that night and was curious if he had texted you. 

And so, shamelessly, to Nevada's door you snuck. 

You stumbled into the room, noisily tripping over your own feet after the door finally gave way with a struggle. Worried you woke them, you took a quick look in the dark, everything seemed quiet enough. A few more steps in and you began hopelessly groping at the floor in search of your lost cell. Another tumble - you think you fell over a belt buckle - and you suddenly noticed a pale something by the closet. A more localized look and you finally pieced it together; the redhead was fishing through the cigar box. Nevada's cigar box- the old one his father had given him, the little obscure sentimental safe he stored his most expensive jewelry and highest value bills. The two of you froze- she hoped you didn't see her and you hoped you were dreaming. Unfortunately, you both were mistaken. 

Without thinking, you shouted; "SHE'S ROLLIN YOU, NEVADA!" It was loud enough to wake the dead, to freeze the redhead tramp in her tracks, and thankfully just boisterous enough to rouse the sleepy Ramirez from his stoned slumber. He began to rise up from his stomach, slowly, just too slow- his date made an attempted dash at the door. On instinct, you knowingly lunged for his dresser since you were at least five feet closer, and you grabbed the pistol kept tucked neatly in his sock drawer. Still working on pure adrenaline, you aimed the barrel at the bitch, and froze as Nevada raised his hand to try and ease the tension. 

"Keep it on her, niñita," he spoke softly in your direction, just loud enough so the three of you could hear. "We don't wanna shoot though," a smug smirk spread over his face, and she shivered as his teeth shone in the dim light; "that would make such a mess. I'd have to call in favors, I like keeping those for when I need them, you know." 

The first stage was always denial; "I don't got nothin." Her hands were in the air, hanging with the scent of sex and stale marijuana smoke. "I don't even have any pockets; I wouldn't do that to you Trujillo..." 

"Liar," you accused under your breath, and you stood statuesque as Nevada rose to his feet, you weren't sure if it was fear or bravery holding you up. He was glaring now, staring her down to try and see what you were so convinced of. It dawned on you- he trusted you; your eyes, your opinion. Nevada had woken from a dead sleep to try and follow your lead. "Strip," you finally ordered smartly, shaking the gun to try and convince her. Cariño blushed and her jaw dropped. 

Nevada's eyebrow raised- he could tell you were serious. Dead serious. She gazed longingly his way, trying to plump a pout and con her way out of trouble the same way she conned herself into his bed. "Nevada, she's fucking crazy-"

"Fucking. Strip." He pointed directly at her. "Honey, if _she_ shoots you," he opened his hands towards you; "I will make you disappear." He chuckled, "No matter what." Nevada smiled that evil grin you'd seen on Natalia just the other evening and so many other times before. "I don't want her to shoot you, I like you," he shrugged and started stepping towards her, apparently confident in your abilities with the weapon you weld. "But if you steal from me, I'll fucking gut you. The gun would be a blessing." 

Tears sparked in her eyes, and she started physically trembling. You knew you had her. Apparently, you weren't the only one. "FUCKING STRIP-" he yelled so loudly, so sternly, with enough damnation to even make you shudder in fear of what was to come. It worked, under the gun and duress, the redhead slithered out of her little cerulean dress; crumpled bills fell hopelessly from the folds, and her panties dangled with the weight of rings and necklace chains. 

The room was a stalemate. You still stood stern with the pistol, but soon felt Nevada's large hand on your shoulder blade. "Give me the gun, Niñita", he ordered in likely the softest tone you had ever heard him use. "Give me the gun and go." 

"Vada-"

"Go." His grip paralyzed you, save for your right hand that automatically handed over the pistol. With his one hand, he turned you, aiming you directly to the bedroom door. "You need to go." 

And you did. Of course you did. You did as everyone always did; you listened to him. Nevada Ramirez told you to go, and go you did- so you snagged your phone from under the nightstand, and ran from that room as fast as you fucking could. You ran until you hit Natalia's couch, and you climbed up over the comforter until you found her shoulder, and you shook her until she grumpily turned to face you. 

"What the Hell?" She mumbled sleepily, before eyes shot wide as a pathetic scream echoed through the apartment walls. 

"She tried to steal from him," you mumbled through tears, and she grabbed onto you until you could barely hear the sting of his slaps over her heartbeat. Your best friend coddled you as Nevada did god-knows-what to the little redhead, the chorus of his anger bellowed and made your blood run cold even though it wasn't you he was directing it towards. You girls huddled under the blanket, covering your faces and tangling yourselves together so you both felt safe. 

Natalia hushed you, confidently combing her fingers through your hair as you shuddered; the sounds were much less unfamiliar to her. 


	6. Chapter 6

You weren't sure how long the poor redhead went through her torture. Natalia and you had fallen asleep; everything was always better when she was with you. Best friends to the end, you always promised, and there was never an exception. Through thick and thin, even when you two were upset with each other- there was always you and her. The Earth could crumble at your feet but if Natalia was there to fall with you, it would be okay. And so you both were able to get some rest, knowing all was well in your worlds. The redhead’s wasn’t your concern. 

However, the peace was disturbed when the comforter was torn off of the couch. Light from the windows assaulted your closed lids, and the cool air of morning caused goosebumps to explode across your exposed skin. 

"Goddamnit, Nevada," You mumbled sleepily after opening your eyes and seeing him hovering over you two. Natalia whined, hiding her face under yours and in your collar to try and fall back asleep. 

"Niñita, come," He insisted flatly, reaching down to grab your wrist and tug at you for convincing's sake. You tried to wrestle your arm back from him, but he didn't let go. He wouldn't. Finally, you gave in, and went about untangling yourself from Natalia so you could stumble to your feet. Nevada released you and walked towards his room, motioning for you to follow him. You hesitated, first draping the blankets back over tired Natalia before walking his way on tip toes. 

"You've done more than you know," Nevada began gently, placing a hand reassuringly between your shoulder blades as he guided you through the door. Hopefully, that was a good thing. He sat on his bed and held up a joint, then pat at the spot beside him; "Únete a mi." 

That was a good way to convince you. You climbed up onto the bed beside him; eyeballing the panties under a stack of keys and jewelry still on the floor- apparently the redhead had planned on taking more than his monetary goods with her. What did those keys unlock, though? You smelled the spark of the initial lighting and smiled over to Nevada, who handed off the joint so you could hit it as he spoke. His favorite way to deliver a monologue; with a captive audience. 

"I don't know why you were in my room," he cut you off by placing a hand on your knee when you began to explain yourself, "but that's not what's important. What's important is that you knew what the fuck to do when you were." Nevada was staring you down now, gauging your reaction, and it made you feel off- something about those green eyes were as damning as they were glorious. "I'm proud of you, _Your Name_. Very proud." 

You offered the joint to him, but he shook his head, instead rising to his feet to cross the room to the cigar box you had seen his date fishing through. He flipped through the contents, before smiling while extracting a surprisingly delicate chain from inside. It was stunning; white gold chain link that reminded you of the tennis bracelets the rich girls you served food to during the weekdays wore, with an elaborate cross hanging boldly from the bottom. Nevada stared at the necklace in admiration, running his thumbs along the diamonds encrusting the cross, and made his way back over to you as you blew smoke rings into the air. 

"Hermosa." He mumbled idly before draping the chain around your neck. He finally took the joint for himself, and took a few puffs while you silently examined the pendant on the end. "You like?" The question came at you with second hand smoke, burning your eyes, and you nodded honestly in response. 

"It's beautiful," you admitted quietly, as if voices too loud could break the spell it had over you. Twisting the cross, glimmers of rainbow light cascaded around the room, decorating your skin and Nevada's with lovely little dots of fireworks. 

"Si," Nevada confirmed, and placed a heavy palm on your cheek to show his own approval. "For a beautiful niñita, it's yours." 

Your jaw dropped- the necklace was easily worth more than any other jewelry you owned, including the ones you had gotten in exchange for working with Nevada before. Involuntarily, you shook your head; you couldn't take his personal jewelry. It didn't feel right, almost felt wrong. 

"Ah stop. Listen, mami," He insisted, crouching down so his face was mere inches away from your own. Nevada took your hands, along with the pendant, and sought your eyes with his. "You are a brave, brave girl-" He spoke with determination, and more sincerity than you were used to from him, "you are a beautiful, strong mujer joven." Prying apart your fists, he held up the cross between you, it almost touched your mouth and you thought you could taste the stones; "you earned this, niñita." Nevada placed his lips on the cool gold, before letting it go and closing your own hands around it. "And you've earned my trust." 

Little tears came to your eyes for reasons you couldn't explain, and Nevada beamed at the sight. Again, he cupped your face in his hands, and placed the same kiss he had bestowed on your new necklace onto your forehead. "Wonderful, wonderful!" his voice was higher now, loud and boisterous as you were used to, and he went over to his closet to retrieve a shirt to wear. "Now get the hell out of here, go get Natalia, we're going for brunch." 

\---

You very, very rarely ever took Nevada's necklace off. 

Natalia had gushed when you showed her your reward for your good deed, complimenting how the white gold shimmered in your eyes. Sometimes you wore the jewels under your shirt, so as not to draw attention to yourself- it was hard to keep the shimmering gold from catching someone's eyes. 

The boys at the club would finger the cross when they leaned down closer to whisper in your ear, and when you bowed your head coquettishly as they did, you admired the reflection of the dance floor's lights in the diamonds. 

When the girls at the restaurant you worked at spoke of fancy parties and high class galas, you placed a hand over your chest so you could feel the outline of the pendant against your palm- they may have everything, but they didn't have a piece of Nevada Ramirez's jewelry. 

When the bouncers noticed your elaborate accessory, you got in without having to tell them you were with Natalia; they must recognize it. 

You'd wear it to bed so you'd fall asleep under the weight of the pedant on your sternum, it became a silent lullaby. You'd wake up with the stones imprinted into your skin; good morning. 

You loved that necklace. It made you feel important, gave you a high to know around your neck hung something worth more than your shitty apartment. To know with those jewels came something stronger- the trust of one of the most dangerous men in the city. The trust of Trujillo. 

And Nevada loved that you loved it. Whenever he was close enough and the air was quiet, he'd pluck the cross up from your chest and smile. When he was high and you were sitting close enough, he'd trace the chain between his fingers. He’d finger the stones when he gave you instructions, and tuck it inside your shirt collar before you did your favors. Part of you knew better than to take it personally; he was admiring his gift, not you. Nevada rarely did anything kind without ulterior motives. You may not have found his reason yet, but you knew there was one. Somewhere in that benevolence. 

But for now, you'd just let it be. You'd enjoy it. While you could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Únete a mi." // "Join me."  
> mujer joven // young woman


	7. Chapter 7

Click click click click slishhhhh snip.

“Don’t fucking say anything, though.”

Sniffffff. Sigh.

“I don’t want him to get all attached or nothin’.”

Natalia spun the mirror on the toilet seat after revealing her secret, so the little mountain of powder was in front of you. You giggled, shifting a bit so your leg fell on the inside of hers. The two of you were hunched on the floor of a stranger’s bathroom, a house party, snorting whatever she poured onto the vanity glass.

“But if you think he’s really cool, maybe you should let him know.” You separated an ivory line of freedom, and sniffed without second thought. It burned and was almost sweet, with a sharp metallic smell you couldn’t quite place. What was this stuff?

“What the fuck is this shit?” You asked while cringing, it tasted as if you had a mouthful of pennies on the back of your tongue. For some odd reason, though- you quickly didn’t mind.

“I dunno, something Nevada’s been selling,” Natalia shrugged and reached across to dig through your pretty violet clutch. “He called it Molly or somethin’.”

That’s cool. You snorted an extra bump then began tunneling the remainder into a small jar that used to hold your father’s contacts. Knock knock knock: these bitches were still trying to get in. The line for the bathroom had only lengthened while you two were inside.

“Yea, yea, we’re coming.” Natalia groaned and rolled her eyes, using the side of the counter and the toilet paper holder as support while she rose to her feet. “Whiny putas,” she mumbled under her breath. You joined her as she ran the sink, and you both washed your hands and fixed your lip liner.

“Patience is a virtue,” you sang to the girls who awaited you outside the door, while wiggling fingers at them from under your chin. They could kick your ass if you annoyed them enough, but they wouldn’t. Not while you were with Natalia. Not while you had that cross around your neck.

Natalia grabbed your hand before rushing down the stairs, in search of your next drinks. Around the bend, and she squealed at an apparently familiar stranger, “Ayyyeeee: Papii!!!!”

—

“What the Hell are you niñas doing here?”

When did Nevada show up? You trotted towards the noise; they were at the bottom of the staircase that spanned the three story. Lazily, you leaned against the rafter, and fidgeted with your necklace while swirling what was left of the drink in your cup. You felt alert, angsty for some reason. You just wanted to move.

Natalia threw her arms in the air, then around her brother’s neck, nearly knocking him off balance. “It’s just such a wonderful evening, Nevada!” She cheered through hiccups. Luckily, it appeared as if he’s had a good night as well, he chuckled along as she mussed his hair and stole his cigar instead of shoving her away. “Lighten up!”

“I am lightened up, where’s _Your Name_?” Nevada asked bluntly, peering nosily through the crowd. There was never only one of you. Always both. He took another bemused look at Natalia and couldn’t contain his grin. “What the Hell did you do? You’re flitting around like a butterfly.”

“The new package, you got any extra?” she flaunted the familiar blue baggies, and Nevada’s face temporarily skewed to annoyance. She recognized it quick, clever girl, and changed the subject before he could tell her how he really felt about her poking through his stash. “Your Niñita looooooves the stuff,” she taunted and his eyebrow rose. He patted gently on his coat pocket, while tilting his head cockily her way. Natalia knew what that meant.

“ _Your Name_!” She sang up the staircase in rhythm with the click, clack of her heels against the marble, finally willing to reveal you. “Baby, Nevada’s here- he’s got more!”

—

These bathroom trips were a lot more complicated with three people. But, when you took up the restroom with Trujillo, nobody knocked. “Shut the fuck up and wait a second.” At least, not twice.

“You girls cost me too damn much,” Nevada spoke through sniffles as he pulled another bag from his pocket, tossing it onto the countertop. He always shared with you two if there was an excess, and apparently it was your lucky night. Good business, he called it. He’d put you to work later. “Too fuckin much, you know that?” He passed the mirror to Natalia, and sat on the lid of the toilet seat with his knee bouncing.

“You love us, Nevada,” you tried to stop his leg from going crazy by placing a hand on his knee- it didn’t work, and he shoved your fingers off of him.

Natalia snuffed her line and went to work sorting out a few more. “Yea, Vada, you love us.” She did a second one before handing off the vanity to her brother. He did three.

“You’re fuckin lucky I do,” he coughed a bit, and his knee continued the jumping that was starting to kill your vibe. You didn’t know why, but it bugged you. “Niñita, ay.”

You hopped up from your spot in the bathtub’s edge and took a seat on Nevada’s lap- successfully ending the annoyance. He knowingly tucked your hair to the side, holding it up and out of the way with one hand as you took the line that had been laid out for you. You three had done this plenty before. While you did your drugs, he held onto the pendant of the necklace he had given you, fingering the diamonds hastily. Natalia giggled, taking her card to slice you out a second line. “You sure this isn’t speed?” You asked curiously after realizing your knee started involuntarily doing the same as Nevada’s.

“Fuck no, it’s ecstasy, mamacita.” He huffed at your accusation, as if he wouldn’t tell you if he was giving you something else. “This shit ain’t cheap, you know.” Nevada’s hand not in your hair moved to your leg, and he absently drew little circles on your thigh as he spoke. “This is good fucking shit; people pay good money for this.” After you finished the other line, you leaned back against him, resting the back of your head on his shoulder so you could swallow the drip. He chuckled a low rumble you could feel through his chest and your back, while running his hands up and down your arms. It felt good, but so did everything at this point. “See, niñita loves it.”

“Thank you, Nevada,” Natalia cooed automatically, leaving a kiss on his cheek before going to work cleaning up the mess. She funneled the remainder into your little container, you two always took whatever Nevada gave you- and if there was one thing Nevada enjoyed in his spare time, it was doing drugs and sharing the spoils. “Love you, Nevada.”

He tapped hard on your thigh, it was your turn. “Thank you, Nevada,” you sang obediently before turning your head to land a peck on the cheek closest to you. “Love you, Nevada.” Smiling, he stood up quickly, dropping you with a ‘thud’ to the floor as he worked on straightening his jacket. You were in no rush to get up.

“Ah, I love you girls,” He spoke to the two of you, but he was admiring himself- fixing his hair and pouting at the mirror while Natalia did pretty much the same. You’d swear they were twins sometimes. Grabbing onto his belt for leverage, you raised yourself to standing and slunk to the door.

“Now go sell this shit,” Nevada snuffed sharply, and ran a thumb under his nose before surveying his girls, you two. “Tell them how good it is; tell them to come see me.” Natalia rolled her eyes, grabbing your wrist so you two could go back to the party. You nodded along, and he pat you on the head as you went to scurry out the door. “Good girls.”

—

“Are you suuuuuure, Nevada?” Your chin was on the track of the car window, and you were on all fours on the leather seats; he had packed you and Natalia in after about two more bottles of champagne and three additional bathroom trips with him and his little blue baggies. He grinned devilishly from outside the car, bending at the waist until he was nose to nose with you. You were pushing your luck, but his good mood persisted. Apparently ecstasy was good for that. “Just come tuck me in…” Natalia made a fake yaking noise from her spot in the front passenger’s seat. She disapproved.

You were fucked up. He knew it. If you were getting fresh with Nevada, he assumed you were higher than a kite. You’d probably be fresh with anyone. Nevada wasn’t anyone. Nothing had ever happened before, but that didn’t keep either of you from the game. You liked to play as much as he did, or so you thought.

“I’m suuuuuure, niñita”, he mocked your sing song voice, tapping you on the cheek as he did so before taking a drag of his cigar. You rolled your eyes. Even when he was high out of his mind, you couldn’t bend his will. Nevada did what Nevada wanted, and he never did what he didn’t want to do. Tonight, that would apparently include bothering with you.

“Where are we going, Vada?” You asked respectfully, you knew it never mattered where you wanted to go. It only mattered where he was taking you.

“Don’t call me that.” He laughed, and you coughed as cigar smoke flooded your face. “Where do you wanna go?” Nevada asked surprisingly gently, and reached out a hand to comb through your disheveled hair. His fingertips skimming your scalp felt like heaven, and how he tapped tantalizingly at the base of your neck when he reached it was a portal to nirvana. You liked ecstasy.

“What does it matter to you?” Your eyes shut as he continued to pet you, “Are you going home?”

“Probably not,” Nevada was smiling, he thought it was amusing what questions you chose to test his patience with. Ones about him. He loved talking about himself, he loved when you talked about him. You knew it.

Huffing, you leaned your cheek against the side of the door. “Then Natalia’s.”

Nevada roared with laughter, leaning down to kiss your forehead and run his hand up and down your spine. You curled to his touch, like a cat that didn’t get enough attention- he fucking loved it.

“You’re high, niñita” he advised gently of the obvious, grabbing your face so you had to look into his green eyes. “No boys, you and Natalia go home.” Nevada squint, before repeating himself much more sternly. You just wanted him to pet you again. “You hear me? No boys.”

You nodded obediently; of course you would. Nobody openly betrayed Trujillo, and you were no exception. He’d know, after all. Nevada always knew.

“That’s my good girl,” he picked up the cross dangling at your chest, admiring it’s shine in the pale moon light. “Hermosa,” Nevada mumbled before dropping your necklace and walking away from the car, waving at the driver to take you girls away. He never said goodbye.

“You two make me sick,” Natalia groaned, throwing herself across the seat so she landed in your lap. You repeated the motions Nevada had laid on you, combing through her hair and lightly massaging her scalp. She grew silent, which was better than her teasing you, and you both settled for the ride back to her apartment.

Just another evening with Nevada.


	8. Chapter 8

“Nevada, get the Hell off of her,” Natalia was trying to come to your assistance as her drunken brother used you as a resting post. You were struggling under his weight, clenching tightly onto the inside of his leather jacket as he stumbled over his own feet. “You’re twice as big as her, make one of your men carry you. Make one of ‘em come get us.” 

“She liiiiikes it,” he slurred, slinging an arm over your shoulders and making your ankle give out in your heels. Thankfully, they were knee highs, and you managed to recover. “Don’t you, niñita?” 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” You grunted while trying to give him a firm shove off of you. 

It must have been a sight; Trujillo and his two bunnies walking crooked in the lamp light. You three had gone out together and intended on riding back to Nevada’s apartment together. For some reason though, you girls weren’t let in on the secret, you couldn’t ride home in the Escalade. Natalia had tried to ask, but she was hushed and had her cheeks pinched until her jaw hurt, so you knew better than to try your own luck. Normally, you two wouldn’t choose to walk along the streets so late in the night- but nothing was dangerous when you were with Nevada.

Even if it was a very, very drunk Nevada. 

“Awe, are you mad, niñita?” He didn’t budge, and instead bowed his chin so his forehead hit your temple. The overwhelming scent of whiskey flooded your nostrils and you held your breath. “You girls are so snippy, you know, I do soooo much for you two;” he spanned his arms so his left encircled your shoulders and the right was slung around Natalia. Smirking at his successful attempt at having you both support him up, he distributed his weight between the two of you. “I need a shoulder once and nyah nyah nyah, you whine.” 

Natalia groaned, “We’re so close, can’t you walk the last block?” You giggled at her frustration, but Nevada only growled. 

“At least _Your Name_ loves me,” He released her roughly, causing her to stumble over her own heels and nearly fall into a nearby wall. Once you noticed Natalia struggling, you slumped to shrug Nevada off of you and went to help her regain balance. 

“Traidor.” Nevada kept walking as you two fussed over the other, easily keeping up his stroll without your assistance. He didn’t need your help walking, you realized quickly along with Natalia. He was fucking with you two. The dual click clack and clatter of your heels against the cement sparked a smile on his otherwise angry face; music to his ears. Snapping in tune from the front of the pack, he shouted into the night air, “Con rapidez, con rapidez!" 

You scowled, holding onto Natalia’s hand and shivering as the cool air swirled around you two. She must have felt it, you decided as she coiled herself around your arm and snuggled herself against your side. You leaned your cheek against the top of her head, ignoring Nevada as he continued taunting you from his position ahead. He had reached the apartment building, perfectly fine without any help, and was waiting for you girls to catch up. 

Nevada was pretending to be a gentleman and holding the door open.  
Nevada was anything but a gentleman. 

\--- 

As soon as you all hit the apartment, you and Natalia finally became unglued. She dove on the sofa, eagerly going to work unlacing her heels and losing her earrings. It took both of you hours to put yourselves together for a night out, but only mere minutes to fall apart and prepare for much needed sleep. The art was for the dance floor, not the midnight reveal. You joined her, helping remove bobby pins from behind her head as you leaned over the top of the couch on your belly. 

"Thank you,” Natalia rose to her knees and you spun around, leaning your back against the sofa so she could return the favor. Your hair fell to your shoulders once she was through, and you bent over to go to work on your shoes. 

“You two are why I know to never trust a chiquita in a club,” Nevada was still talking shit, and had been busy abandoning everything from his pockets onto his kitchen table as you and Natalia got comfortable. “A pretty honey is a ten on the floor then ehhhh,” he wagged his flattened hand back and forth, “it’s like Jekyll and Hyde after you leave the disco lights.” 

“Don’t act like you’ve ever read a book,” you mumbled mostly to yourself, but it must have been loud enough to make an impact, since the simple comment elicited a rain shower of giggles from Natalia. You could always count on her to appreciate your bad jokes. 

He didn’t really care, but you heard him mumble about “perras estúpidas” as he mentally counted the bills flowing through his fingers. Watching him count money was like watching a ballet- he never missed a dollar and each piece of paper floated into its appropriate stack with the utmost precision, no matter how fucked up he was. Nevada got fucked up, and fucked shit up- but he didn’t fuck around with his money. 

“I’m taking a shower,” Natalia announced mostly to you, and you nodded to show you heard her while scrolling through your cell phone. The boy you had met the night of the fox hunt had been sporadically texting you, and apparently this evening was one of the few he remembered your phone number. Lucky you. A smug smirk spread across your face at the flirtatious texts, and you bit onto your bottom lip as you debated a reply. 

“What’re you so cheeky about, niñita?” Apparently your cheer hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Nevada was scowling at you from his place at the table. You hadn’t even known he was watching you. You girls knew not to bother him when he was counting. 

You matched his look, an odd mix of curiosity and scorn. “Whaddayou care?" 

His annoyance shifted quickly, your denial of information just made it all that more interesting. What was there to hide? "Give it,” Nevada ordered bluntly, holding out his hand from across the room. 

Did he seriously think you would throw him your phone? “Fuck off, Nevada,” you grumbled grumpily while going back to your keyboard. You were working on responding, when you heard his footsteps with growing intensity. He was coming closer. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm, so you continued tapping away at the little glowing screen. He loved when you squirmed. 

“Dámelo,” His voice had lowered, so low it sent a shiver down your spine. You cautiously looked up from your phone to see him standing inches away from you, a hand outstretched expectantly to accompany his intimidating stare. That didn’t sound like Nevada playing games with you. 

That sounded like an order. 

“Vada,” you smiled sassily from your spot on the couch, trying to charm your way through the Trujillo so you could go back to playing games with Nevada. This wasn’t so fun anymore. 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” He hissed, and tried to catch you by surprise while snatching for the object he apparently desired so much. You counteracted the sneak attack by diving to the floor, thus putting you and the cell phone at the side of him instead of the front. Change of scenery, a second bought. Nevada froze, eyebrows raised as he watched you scurry away from him. You were making that cell phone seem awfully tempting. Nobody denied Nevada. 

Honestly, you expected him to curse at you, or to order you give over the phone once again. A few tense moments passed, you thought the air was growing heavy, what was he thinking? Why couldn’t you breathe? His face softened, and he chuckled; laughing aloud at the distress he had caused from his apparent concern. Drunk Nevada was a confusing man, like a haunted house: a surprise around every corner. 

“You’re so jumpy, calm down,” He teased lightly, and turned on his heel to apparently go back to counting his money. You calmed as suggested, taking a deep breath to make up for all the ones you had lost, and rose slowly as you clicked on your cell and attempted to make your way back to the couch. 

The second you had your nose back in your texts, Nevada made his move- he immediately dropped to his knees and lunged, knocking the air out of you as he tackled you to the ground. You howled stubbornly, slamming a fist against his chest as he straddled your hips. It did no good. He shamelessly used his hand to hold both your wrists, pinning them over your head until you were efficiently immobilized under his weight. You assumed you’d have bruises come morning. 

You kicked your legs upwards, but he ducked forward so he hovered over your chest and you couldn’t catch him in your ankles. You’d been in a similar position before, when you were twelve and he spit in your face for going in his bedroom without permission. Your trick had worked back then, he left the battle with a concussion; but now, he knew better. He knew you. 

“Alejate de mí, carajo/mierda, Nevada!” You screamed loud enough to convince Natalia to turn off the running water, but you didn’t faze your captor. Nothing ever did. Nevada grabbed the phone with his free hand, and nosily helped himself to the texts that had had you so delighted minutes before. Sweet turned bitter. 

To your surprise, he smiled, and chuckled lightly as he began to read out loud; “ _You looked so beautiful that night, babe._ ” Nevada stuck his tongue in his cheek, you couldn’t tell if he was really amused or upset. Was he making fun of you? “ _You should come over and we can have some fun._ Ha! Fun?” Tisk, tisk, tisk: the click of his tongue felt damning. He looked down at your face as you hurled Spanish obscenities at him. He loved it. 

By the time Natalia was out of the bathroom, Nevada was climbing off of you, and you spun to grab onto his ankle as he tried to walk off with your phone. “ _You should think of me when you touch yourself,_ ” he read on in a high pitched tone, and your blush reddened drastically. He spat onto the floor. “ _Send me a picture, a good one._ ” He kicked you off of his boot, causing you to flinch before your next move. 

What was there to do now? 

"Putos niños en estos días," Nevada grumbled under his breath. To your utter horror, in what felt like an eternity but must have only taken seconds, he had undone his belt buckle and twisted your phone twice so the camera turned on- he’d seen you do the same plenty of times before. You struggled to get to your feet, but before you could: Nevada pulled his jeans away from his waist far enough so he could snap a photograph, flash and all, of his own manhood. He pressed send with no hesitation, and then threw the phone across the room so it hit the wall and shattered across the hardwood with your confidence. His hands hastily fell to the back of his neck. All hail Trujillo. 

There was no longer reason for you to rush. You couldn’t do anything beyond glowering at him with your mouth hung open. Natalia was trying her best to muffle her laughter- it was funny, she couldn’t help it. A Ramirez would. 

You didn’t find it so humorous. In fact, it was debilitating. Emotionally and physically crippling, with a slight taste of copper and surrender for you to always remember. Nevada already ruled most of your life, he ruled everything here- did he really have to sabotage the bit of your world that didn’t involve him? The little slice of freedom from his rules, his jobs, his drugs, his calls; you knew it wasn’t possible. 

Nevada had everything, and that included you. You and Natalia both, all of his sisters and all of his whores- you were Nevada’s girls. 

Not the cute club boy’s. 

“Why the fuck would you do that, Vada!?” You whined helplessly, crybaby drops of embarrassment and frustration pricking at your eyes. He didn’t care, you knew he didn’t, and he boldly ‘HA-HA-HA'ed directly into your face- you could taste the dark liquor in your tears. The part of your world without him was incomplete without his dirty fingers tainting it. He fixed it. 

“Tell me when you’re ready to deal with a real man, niñita.” Nevada advised while fixing his belt buckle back into place. “And stop fucking around with these niñitos.” He grabbed onto your face, thumb and middle finger prodding into your cheeks hard enough so you couldn’t close your lips as he used your chin to help you up from the floor. He fingered the necklace around your neck; it started to feel heavy, like a dog tag. Natalia finally dropped her laughter- this wasn’t so funny anymore. The look on your face made her want to cry. “You’re better than that,” Nevada tossed you to the side, and you fell onto the sofa. “I did you a fucking favor.” 

And then he left. He went to his room after releasing your chin, and slammed the door behind him with enough force to cause the picture frames to rumble. Natalia came over to you, wrapping her arms around you and joining you on the couch in a gentle hug. She kissed your hair and brushed your tears away with her thumbs, telling you how you two will find a better boy this weekend. A sweeter boy, a cuter boy. A boy worthy of you, a boy even Nevada would love. There was no such boy. 

And the boy never texted you back.  
He couldn’t. Nevada would get you a new number. 

And you woke up the next morning to an empty apartment, other than a sleeping Natalia tangled in your legs, and four fifty dollar bills tucked neatly under pieces of your broken cell phone on the coffee table. You flinched as you grabbed them, your wrists had turned black and blue from last night’s manhandling. 

You’d forgive him. You always did.  
You wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t, but it didn’t matter. 

Nevada never needed forgiveness.  
And you needed Nevada. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Traidor.” // "Traitor."  
> “Con rapidez, con rapidez!" // "Quickly, quickly!"  
> “perras estúpidas" // "stupid bitches"  
> “Dámelo,” // "Give it to me,"  
> “Alejate de mí, carajo/mierda, Nevada!” // "Get the fuck off me, Nevada!"  
> "Putos niños en estos días." // "Fucking kids these days."  
> niñitos // little boys.


	9. Chapter 9

You felt your new phone, your better phone than any you’d have before, vibrating as you took an order. You smiled your way through the temptation of checking it. You weren’t supposed to be on calls while you were at work, a little cafe a couple blocks away from your apartment, “Rita’s”. The couple at your table finished their order, some lunch and a milkshake for two. How cute. Gross. 

“Coming right up,” you beamed broadly at them, collecting the menus before turning and making your way to the back. Feigning to check your notebook, you took a look at your phone. Nevada. Naturally. Before you could call him back, he rang again. You knew better than to not answer. Nobody refused to answer him. 

“Not now, I’m working;” Whispering, knowing he already knew that before you even told him. 

“Me too,” Nevada didn’t care. You knew he didn’t. “How late are you working?” 

You wondered why he wanted to know, but you were well aware he likely wouldn’t tell you even if you asked, and the glare from your manager was definitely helping you decide to hurry the call along. “Six,” you answered succinctly. You weren’t up for conversation. 

“Too late,” Nevada mumbled something else under his breath, you couldn’t hear him. “When’s your break?” 

“Two hours.” You held the phone between your ear and shoulder, balancing precariously as you poured drinks for another table. 

You could hear him blow smoke out, or he was driving and the window was down. You couldn’t really tell. “Save me a quiet table, we’re having lunch.” His instructions weren’t new, and you took a moment to survey the current scene. Unless there was a huge rush, that was probably doable. 

“Who’s we?” You sounded suspicious. Because you were. 

He didn’t seem to care, “You, me, my friend.” 

A friend? What friend? Not nearly as important as your bigger conundrum; “Why here?” 

“Because I said so.” 

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. 

“Okay, okay,” you had to get off the phone before your manager finally got the balls to come say something to you. You couldn’t afford to lose this job. “I’ll see you then, I gotta go.” 

No goodbye, no confirmation, you just heard the phone click as he hung up on you. That’ll work. ‘Sorry’ you mouthed with a shrug before he headed your direction, and you rushed yourself back onto the floor. He wouldn’t make a scene in front of the customers. At least, you hoped he wouldn’t. 

\--- 

If there was one thing you could always depend on, it was Nevada being punctual. Two hours after your phone call, on the dot; he was waiting up front with a burly man in a leather jacket. You had noticed him shortly after he arrived, but gave him the one finger salute- he’d have to wait a minute. He never liked waiting, even for a minute. 

“Always waiting on you, niñita,” Nevada grumbled loudly, enough to disturb a few other patrons. They wouldn’t complain, though. Nobody complained about him. “I told you I was coming,” his harassment continued as you tried to ignore his voice over the crowd, “you said two hours, and here I am, two hours.” 

“It was so nice serving you two today;” Your attention was on your customers, the ones who were tipping you right that moment, the ones who your boss cared about- not your best friend’s brother who apparently was in dire need of a table. They nodded, giving you 'the eye’ as they dropped your tip along with their payment. It was funny how your tips seemed to grow when Nevada was around. Not that you minded. 

“Isn’t that what she said?” Nevada turned to his body guard, who nodded in agreement. He’d agree with him no matter what he said. “Two hours, am I deaf? Your Name!” He hollered when he saw you dive into the kitchen. “You said two hours, si?!” You felt so bad for the poor hostess out front. 

“Just go,” your manager stole the tray from you- he’d rather you take your break a little early than deal with Nevada Ramirez bothering the other restaurant guests. 

“Thank you,” You said hastily, tossing off your apron before glowering and heading back to the front. Nevada noticed you out of the red checkered print cover and his smile could have lit a darkened room, if it weren’t so dark in itself. He threw his arms in the air, ready to engulf you in the dramatic Ramirez hug he and his sister always had for you, or anyone they were happy to see. It was reassuring compared to the other evening. 

“Break time, si?” As if he didn’t already know, as if he hadn’t known causing a scene would get your attention on him sooner. Nevada always needed all the attention. “Did you get my table?” He coiled an arm over your shoulder, ignoring your scowl and pulling you close until he could lean his forehead against yours. “Did you miss me?” 

“Where’s Natalia?” You put a hand on his chest and back to steady yourself against his pulling as you guided Mr. Ramirez to his booth, the same one in the back of the restaurant you had given him before. Purposely since his call, you had seated any new guests at least a few tables away. He wanted a private lunch; you’d get him a private lunch. 

“Sleeping.” Not a surprise. Natalia didn’t have a day job, didn’t need one, so you typically woke her up of an evening after your shift. “You gonna join me?” The guard stood a few steps away, sticking out in the otherwise commonplace restaurant like a sore thumb. 

Did you really have a choice? 

\--- 

“You need to find a better job,” Nevada had told you that plenty before, but aside from selling your soul to his phone calls, he hadn’t really offered much in the light of a solution. 

You rolled your eyes, and held your chin up in your hands. “It pays the bills,” you mused lightly. Honestly, the small talk was getting boring. Why didn’t he tell you what he wanted? You knew better than to ask. Yet. 

Nevada took another bite of his muffin he had ordered; “I pay your bills.” 

“Sometimes,” you snorted. He paid all of Natalia’s bills, all of his families’ bills, as he should. He can, and you take care of family, and being a Ramirez meant Nevada took care of you. You only got a bill paid when you did what he wanted, completed a job. But, you weren’t trying to complain. You needed him. 

“Often,” He retorted quickly, eyes narrowing. 

You shook your head in denial, he was wrong. “Not all of them…”

He scoffed, slamming his coffee cup on the table loud enough to make the plates clink together. “Enough of them,” he managed through a bite of the muffin while chuckling. 

Why was this the conversation? Was he insinuating you were ungrateful? Was this really what he wanted to interrupt your day for? “Maybe I should just go stand on the corner for you,” you feigned naivety and looked down at the table instead of him, “and then I wouldn’t have to pay for anything.” You felt dependent enough; it was only a drastic step away. Never a step you’d take, but it was true. 

He wasn’t chewing anymore. He wasn’t drinking his coffee. In fact, he was silently leering at you, and you thought for a moment that you had upset him. You pouted out your lip, still not wanting to apologize, but the trick didn’t work. Nevada was baiting you and you were biting. He furrowed his brows, the look he usually gave when you or Natalia managed to genuinely piss him off. You hadn’t realized you had gotten that far. 

“Don’t say that,” Nevada wasn’t being friendly anymore, he wasn’t joking with you; he was being serious. His Trujillo was showing. Apparently your words didn’t settle well with him, though you weren’t quite sure why he cared so much. “I don’t like that,” he added roughly before taking a drink of his coffee, green eyes glued on yours the whole time. They scared you. 

You weren’t sure why or what for, but you obediently offered your condolences. You knew that look. “Sorry, Nevada.” It wasn’t genuine, but he’d take it anyway. He always did. 

He nodded, acceptance. He’d only been there about thirty minutes, and had only eaten half the muffin he ordered, but was already wiping at his hands with a napkin. “Are you and Natalia going out tonight?” Nevada finally spoke, and you felt like you could breathe again. The momentary tension had been stifling. 

Shrugging, you perked an eyebrow as he stood to his feet. “Most likely, I don’t work until the afternoon tomorrow,” you spoke as he fished through a wad of cash. Nevada tossed ten dollars on the table for an $8.53 bill and you sighed dramatically. He noticed, and paused while glaring at you. Again. “C'mon Nevada, leave him a better tip,” you urged in a hushed whisper. The bus boy had been taking care of you two, you asked he do so instead of taking time from any of the other waitresses. They had tables to handle. You would be fine with the bus boy. 

Nevada bit the inside of his cheek, before dropping an additional twenty onto the bill. “Culos codiciosos,” he grumbled before opening his hands towards you, seekingly. Your smile was enough to signify you approved, and he shook his head while smirking back. “You’re so fucking bossy,” Nevada accused as you slid out from your end of the booth. 

“Did you actually want something?” You asked finally, wondering if he forgot his purpose. It wasn’t like him. 

Genuine bewilderment flooded his face, and that was the moment you realized- he didn’t. Nevada had come and interrupted your work day to eat half a muffin and drink coffee with you on your break. He smiled cheekily, running his finger beneath the visible part of the chain around your neck. Goosebumps sprouted along your throat as his fingertip skimmed it. The pendant popped out from the safety of your shirt, and he ran his thumb gently over the diamonds in reverence. “Call me when you and Natalia need a ride home,” he instructed plainly, as if it isn’t what you two would have tried to do anyway, while dropping the cross back to hit your sternum. You always tried Nevada first, Uber second. Nevada was free. Before leaving, he fished out a few hundred dollar bills and plopped them onto the table in front of you. Five of them. 

“And pay your fucking bills, niñita.” He put his hand on your hair, twisting his palm a few times to hopelessly rustle your strands and leave you looking a mess before he strolled out of the cafe. No goodbye, there never was one. You hastily took the hundreds, tucking them into your back pocket while also dipping your necklace back into your shirt. Why not? 

You didn’t have time to worry about Nevada being odd. It wasn’t anything new. 

You had work to do.  
And apparently, you were going out tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Culos codiciosos // greedy asses


	10. Chapter 10

Natalia was tired, most likely from the xanax she had munched on at the club for her 'headache'. There wasn't a headache, you knew that- she just didn't want to tell Nevada that she had been downing Xanax with her cocktails. He'd have berated her for it, and she didn't want to deal with that. "Not tonight," she had told you briefly before you began to ask what the little bars were. 

You didn't want Xanax. You wanted to dance. And so you did; with the nice drunk girls you met in the bathroom, with Natalia, with someone who you swore was a man despite the tube dress, with Nevada, with the boys who bought you drinks served under miniature umbrellas. You danced most of the night, sniffing ecstasy off Nevada’s fist whenever he surprised you by clenching his fingers around the back of your neck. 

You’d blame the extra bump before you rolled away if anyone ever asked; Nevada had given you the goodbye gift from the outside of the car while you sat in the backseat. He was being generous tonight. And you intended to be generous with the handsome boy he had driving you home. 

Trujillo didn't knock. He never did, but usually it wasn't a problem. But now, with you naked and grinding on the lap of one of his men- it was a fucking problem. Nevada cheerfully called out to the boy whose name you hadn't bothered to ask, they usually used fake ones anyway. "Amigo!" Crunch; he was taking bites of an apple as he strolled his happy way into the living room. As soon as the door had opened without a knock, you knew who it was- which was enough to convince you to race your bare ass into the guest room before he managed to come around the corner from the hallway. 

"Amiiiig-" Nevada was cut off when he saw the boy standing in the middle of the room, frozen in fear. He laughed, apparently jovial, taking another bite of his fruit before raising a curious eyebrow. "Look at you, what the fuck," he mused lightly, noticing how the boy's hair was mussed and his shirt was unbuttoned to his navel. "Did you fall asleep? What's the matter with you?" Nevada asked, taking a look at his watch once he noticed both the bedroom doors were shut- he assumed you girls were asleep. "Where the fuck have you been, you were supposed to just drop them off and leave," He was still joking, but his eyes squint when he didn't get an answer. 

"Amigo, cat got your tongue?" Nevada chuckled again, until something shiny caught his eye. Turning nosily to the somehow familiar glimmer, he noticed the necklace he had given you was hanging from the back of the sofa you and his driver had been fucking on. 

The air shifted, and you thought your heart would beat through the wood of the door you leaned against when you heard the familiar jingle of the chain as he picked it up from where you had left it. The cross had been slamming against you, stabbing your chest with every rise and fall, so you had left it where you could see it. Unfortunately, you hadn't thought to bring it with you in your rush to hide. 

Nevada was no longer in a good mood. "What the fuck is this doing here?" He asked in a low growl, after throwing his apple at the trembling boy standing before him- it hit his stomach with a thud and you heard him gasp for air. "I don't like to repeat myself, amigo," he advised warningly, swinging the damning evidence like a pendulum in front of his face. A glance down at the couch, and he noticed a bra stuffed messily in the cushions. You’d been caught. " _YOUR NAME_!" He bellowed for you loud enough to make the door shake and your knees weak. 

Your clothes had been kicked under the sofa, so the only covering you had ready available was the blanket on top of the bed you slept on when you stayed over at Natalia's. You wrapped yourself in the comfort of the cotton before cautiously opening the door you hid behind; keeping him waiting would likely be worse than getting your punishment over with. 

The moment he saw your head come around the door, he snapped his fingers, and pointed at the ground beside him. You shook your head, trying to deny the request since you weren't yet clothed. "Nevada, I'm not dress-" He interrupted you with a slow shake of his head, and again snapped his fingers. 

What else were you supposed to do? The walk of shame was a short one, and you were physically trembling when you made it to the prescribed spot. If looks could kill, which sometimes you thought his were capable, you'd have been struck six feet under. Nevada stuck his tongue in his cheek, the evil Cheshire grin forcing its way across his lips. He slowly draped the necklace over your head, the metal felt cold and harsh against your bare skin. You dared not to look up at him, instead gluing your eyes shut as the color flushed from your face. 

"So," He wasn't speaking to you, but he placed his hands on your shoulders and swayed you gently to and fro as he went on, drastic enough that your foot would rise when you were leaned the opposite direction. "I ask you to take **my** girls home, I trust you with my favorite ladies, with my sister even, I pay you up front," Nevada's head cocked to the side. You stole a peek- he was staring at the poor boy. "And you fuck my niñita?" 

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but as soon as air came out, Nevada's fist went in. Blood splattered across the wall behind him, and you yelped and hid your face in the folds of the blanket you had wrapped around you. His face had changed; you weren't dealing with Nevada anymore. You were with Trujillo now. 

"What the FUCK were you thinking?" He shoved you aside as he advanced on the boy, and you tumbled to the ground after tripping over your own feet. "Putting your filthy fucking hands on her- I should cut them off of you," another fist to the face, opposite direction, and you howled for him to stop from your spot on the floor. 

He tried to speak; "Nevada, I'm sorry-" Third punch landed him on his ass, back against the wall, and caused a few nearby picture frames to shatter around him. 

"Don't you ever say my fucking name," Nevada pointed at him daringly, before readjusting his ring so the gems faced outward. "You're sorry? Are you sure?" He bent at the waist, berating the boy directly to his face, kicking him in the side with his heavy boots; "Are you REALLY sure you're so fucking sorry?" 

"Vada, stop it, please!" You were crying, but it didn't seem to faze anyone. Nobody cared. 

That earned you something you hadn't gotten from him in years, since you were a mouthy teenager; a quick, succinct slap across your cheek. Not as hard as you knew he could if he wanted to, but hard enough to make you compliant and silent. "PUTA!" Nevada howled in your face, the veins in his neck bulging as you whimpered and tried to bury yourself deeper in your little cocoon. He wasn't satisfied, and grabbed a fistful of the blankets in his hand, physically dragging your sanctuary of cotton closer to him as you tried to scoot yourself away. 

"What the fuck is going on here?" Natalia finally was roused, and drowsily wandered out of her room to check on the commotion. The driver bleeding profusely all over her carpet, the mess from the fallen photographs, you naked and bawling in the corner with Nevada dragging your blanket fort so he could shout more obscenities into your face or do god-knows-what. Too much, too soon; Prioritize. "Nevada, stop it, let her go!" She immediately came to your aid, physically forcing herself between her brother and you, giving him a rough shove on the shoulders to convince him to back off. 

"Your friend is a whore," He spat at you over her shoulder, and you covered your head so his saliva hit the blankets instead of your face. 

"¡No soy!" Your shouting was as feral as his, and you came to your own defense behind the protection of Natalia. "Estás jodido loco, Nevada!" Not what he wanted to hear, apparently, considering how his eyes went wide and he tried again to circumvent his little sister to get to you. He rushed her with enough force to temporarily knock the air from her voice. 

"Nevada, no!" Natalia shoved at him again, before calling to you while keeping her stare locked on his; " _Your Name_ go in my room." The Ramirezs were at a standstill, and the air in the room felt like it was going to twirl into a hurricane. You scurried to your feet, racing to the confines of Natalia's room before slamming the door shut behind you. You did not want to be there when those two went at it. 

"I'm not fucking done with you, niñita!" He threatened before he and Natalia's argument dissolved from there. Or, more accurately, ignited. You fell to her bed, and sobbed hopelessly while you curled into a fetal position. This was not what you had planned for the evening. 

\---

"I didn't like that." 

Nevada's voice had calmed, but he certainly didn't seem any less upset than he had been thirty minutes ago. Natalia had come in and dressed you in a crimson nightgown of hers, then proceeded to hush and hug on you until you were settled enough for her to relay an instruction; he wanted to talk to you outside. 

"I can tell," you were staring down at your fingertips, absently picking at your nail polish so you had an excuse not to look him in the face. 

Even without looking, you could feel his glare. He cracked his neck, taking another long drag of his cigarette before going on. "I'm sorry I hit you." 

"No you're not." You accused, finally catching his stare. 

"I am." Nevada insisted, and you knew better than to argue it further. He flicked the cigarette across the parking lot before pushing himself up from leaning against the wall. "I lost my head," once he was close enough, he smirked and ran his finger under the familiar chain so the pendant would pop up from the inside of your sleep clothes. He dropped it so the diamonds shone back at him atop your chest. 

"You called me a 'puta'," your bottom lip trembled as you said the word- you were not a whore. For a split second, you saw a rare sight come over his eyes; guilt. 

"I'm sorry," Nevada apologized sincerely, frowning even as he saw how much it affected you. He was livid earlier, not himself- he didn't even really know why it had pissed him off so much. For some reason, though, the thought of you sleeping with someone just curled a pit in his stomach. Especially his men. He knew his men. He didn’t want his men touching you. 

"I've known you since you were a little girl," he began to try and explain himself while curling some of your hair around his fingers. You didn't move. You were afraid to. "It’s my job to protect you-"

"I'm not a little girl, Nevada." You wouldn't stop him from picking at you, mostly out of fear of inciting him again. 

He dropped your curls, narrowing his stare and grabbing a hold of your chin with his thumb and forefinger. "You're my niñita." Nevada spoke every syllable carefully, deliberately, so you couldn't deny the words he spoke. 

"Don't call me that." 

He laughed, and you softened at the glorious sound. So much nicer than his shouting. He cupped your face in his hands; kissing your forehead in the same fashion he had done plenty hundreds of times before, before hugging you tightly to his chest. 

"Go rest," Nevada suggested as he spoke into your hair, and you turned your cheek to rest against the chest of his jacket. "I'm going to take you girls shopping in the morning, una disculpa." He rocked side to side, forcing you to move with him, "If I don't, Natalia's going to be pissed." 

You giggled, squirming to escape from his hug of entrapment. This was the Nevada you had grown up with. You turned to follow his instructions, but were surprised to have your hand caught up in his before you could go inside the building. Pausing, you pouted, and turned to look over your shoulder. It was late; you were tired; you wanted to sleep. 

Nevada walked dangerously close to you, pressing his cheek against your temple so his hot breath fell over your ear and throat. You could smell what remained of his cologne and the hot, musky scent of manhood; you instinctually grabbed hold of the opening of his jacket with both hands once his chest pressed flush to your side. His fingertips toyed with the thin strap of your nightgown on your opposite shoulder, sliding under it so the material lay over his fingers. "If you sleep with any more of my men," his eyes were dancing along the top of your gown, and he slid his palm seductively across your chest so his fingertips dipped inside the hem to the first knuckle, skimming your bare skin beneath the silk and causing your breath to catch in your throat. The pads of his fingers felt electric. Your blood ran cold. "I'll fucking kill them." 

"¿Tú entiendes?" He asked his brave hand moving down to your waist so he could pull you against him when he felt you try and step away. You nodded obediently, not sure whether you should be scared or not, and you felt his lips curve into a smile against your face. 

"Buena niñita." Nevada finally separated himself from you, patting you on the cheek before straightening his jacket and walking off into the street. No goodbye, no explanation; just Trujillo fading into the darkness as he left you confused and slightly terrified standing in front of Natalia's apartment building. 

What else could you expect, though?  
Just another evening with Nevada. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "PUTA!" // "WHORE!"  
> "¡No soy!" // "I am not!"  
> "Estás jodido loco, Nevada!" // "You're fucking crazy, Nevada!"  
> una disculpa. // an apology.  
> "¿Tú entiendes?" // "You understand?"  
> "Buena niñita." // "Good girl."  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

Natalia didn't feel well.

She had called you that morning, complaining and whining about how her stomach hurt and she couldn't sleep. That was odd enough for Natalia to make you take it seriously- she loved her sleep.

"Okay, Nat, okay," You didn't have work, it was a Saturday, and so you promptly began navigating through your little apartment for your clothes. It looked like a shoe box compared to Natalia's place, a messy shoe box, considering how little time you actually spent there. "Are you hungry though?" You worked on tying your shoes as you perched precariously on the corner of the dining room table that was falling apart.

"Yea," she didn't sound all too sure. Natalia sounded exhausted, and wheezed when she made another effort to speak; "I just can't keep anything down."

"Don't worry, I'm comin'," You advised, then went to checking your fridge. You had most of what you'd need to cook her some soup, and you could stop by the grocer on your way to her house to get anything missing. You liked cooking- you were good at it, one of the few wholesome things you actually did well. Really well. "Do you want me to grab some movies or somethin' on my way?"

"Nah," you thought you heard her try to throw up again, "nah we can just watch TV."

That meant she didn't want to follow a plot. She really must not be feeling well. "Okay baby, I'll be there in a couple hours. Try to sleep." It was only nine AM, she never was up this early. She dry heaved from the other end and you hung up so she could get to it.

\---

"What're you doin' here?"

What the Hell did it look like you were doing there? "I'm cooking."

Nevada cocked his head, leaning against the door frame to Natalia's kitchen and watching you suspiciously. "Why? Stop."

You glared over your shoulder. What did he care? "No, Natalia's sick, she's lying down," you explained flatly. You didn't need his permission to be there, and you certainly didn't need his approval to chop chicken and vegetables while your friend took a nap. You funneled the carrots and celery into the pot, before snapping your fingers his direction. "Pass me the basil, will you?"

"No," He didn't move. You really didn't expect him to, and instead went to the windowsill to get some for yourself. You had started an herb garden in her window, you liked cooking in Natalia's apartment. She had more light, more windows, and less crack whores stumbling through the halls. It was peaceful.

That is, when Nevada wasn't there.

"I'll order you two food," he huffed, strolling through so he could lean against the counter and watch you work. "You should come out tonight, help me a bit."

You shook your head to note your refusal;"No, Nat's sick."

"That means she's not going anywhere."

You rolled your eyes, he didn't know anything about friendship. His idea of a best friend was someone who answered when you called because they were afraid of what would happen if they didn't. "Vada, I'm spending the night with Natalia, I don't want her sick and alone." You went for a pan, but he was standing in front of the cabinet you kept them in. Nat didn't cook, you knew where everything was. "Move, I need in there."

Nevada hoisted himself up, smirking as he sat on the counter top and spread his legs wide. Not exactly what you meant, but whatever. You unblushingly opened the door beneath him, ducking to procure the necessary utensils before slamming it shut. He closed his legs as soon as you stood, trapping you in front of him with his thighs around your waist.

"Ah, c'monnnnn niñita," he ran his thumb down your cheek, tracing your jaw in admiration. "I just need you to make some things look good, you're so pretty you know. It's easy for you." You knew what that meant. He wanted you to do drugs, and convince people of how wonderful they are so they would buy more to share with you. It was one of Nevada's favorite ways to push a lot of product in minimal time.

"Cut it, Nevada," you freed yourself by digging your nails hard into his thigh, causing him to yelp and loosen his hold. You went back to stirring your broth.

"Shoes?" He asked, and you shook your head. "A new dress?" He offered further. Again, your head wagged. Nevada huffed, hopping down from his seat and making his way towards you. "Bills?"

Now, he had your attention. You coyishly glanced over your shoulder at him, and he smiled as he came up behind you. "Which bill?" Further clarification would be needed.

"Mmmm," He placed his elbows on your shoulders, leaning against his hands as you heard him hum to himself. It was his way of doing the math, he knew how much your bills cost. He had paid plenty of them before. "Rent. One month."

"Two," if he was still bargaining with you, he really wanted your help. Nevada cursed, throwing his hands in the air and walking away while mumbling about greedy bitches in Spanish. You didn't mind, it gave you a chance to start browning the chicken you had cut up. You sprinkled the hot peppers over the meat and smiled as it started sizzling.

"Only two if you wear that black dress." THAT black dress. You knew which black dress he meant, it was one he bought you. It was usually reserved as a 'big gun'; it was a little too classy for a typical night out and a little too leggy for a fancy dinner. "Three if you try Nat's pink one again-"

"No," you were never wearing that skirt again, he knew that, and he snickered at your refusal.

"Okay, mami, okay;" he stole a bell pepper from your stack of veggies, tossing it into the air and catching it a few times as he leaned back against the space next to the stove, so he could look you in the face. "You finish cooking, you feed Natalia, you put her to bed," He then motioned to himself; "I pick you up at 10 and you wear that black dress," Nevada placed the pepper behind him, apparently done fiddling with it. You made a mental note to re-wash it. "You come party a little, do the giggle and a wiggle, and you get two months rent." He leaned precariously over the oven, hovering directly in front of you so you couldn't ignore him without turning away. "Easy."

"Giggle and a wiggle?" You raised an eyebrow, repeating the new phrase he apparently adopted. Nevada laughed, nodding along and placing his hands on your hips to physically force you to 'wiggle' as prescribed.

"Si, si," He nodded vibrantly, trying to be nice now since his convincing was seemingly working. "You know what I mean," His voice hitched to the high, annoying tone he used whenever he mocked you; "'Oh helloooo, I'm niñita, I'm so puuuuurrrrdyyyyy.'" You tried not to laugh as he went on, making you shimmy again as his chest hit your back; "'I loooove coke, this coke is so good, can we get some mooooooooooore?'" He leaned his cheek against your head, "'go ask Nevaaaaaaada, that haaaaandsome motherfucker.'"

"Okay, okay, okay," You shrugged him off of you, adding an elbow to his stomach to show your seriousness, and nodding as you finished chopping up your seasonings. "Okay, Nevada, I'll help you."

"Fabulous!" He put his hand on your face to force you over so he could kiss your cheek. "Good girl, very good girl."

"Who's picking me up?" You bit your lip; you were baiting him now. It had been a little over a week since the... incident with his driver.

"I fucking am, niñita." He shouted from the living room, slamming the door hard behind him afterwards. Funny how you got personal chauffeur service now.

You should have tried fucking his errand boys earlier.

\---

You had done a lot of coke by now.

Nevada had surprised you, though. These men certainly seemed like gentlemen, or at least the kind of gentlemen he socialized with. They wore nice suits and spoke over you, it made you feel both small and important; they may not talk to you, but they sure did like to look at you. He had a little brunette in his lap, you didn't recognize her, but you didn't really take the time to try anyway. She was one of his girls, you assumed. Nevada's girls were easy to spot; the chiseled jaw lines, the nicely done nails, the too short dresses and finely tuned conversations. They were goddesses in this underworld. You were just eye candy.

"Are you bored, my dear?" An Australian man old enough to remind you of your high school Chemistry teacher got your attention. You shrugged, before taking a quick look at your phone

"Oh no, honey, but it's laaaate," it wasn't. It was only midnight, and they had already bought plenty of coke to keep them talking. Business, figures, code words you could probably decipher from context if you really tried. You were lounged on a big red chaise, across at least three men, one of which had this tendency to run his nails down your leg and make you tingle. As if the high weren't enough to keep you on your toes.

"Nonsense. Let's get this party going," you didn't know the accent, it was sharp and slightly scary, but the man behind it was younger than the others. Blonde and surprisingly dapper. "Nevada, need I say more?"

Trujillo was already on it, pouring powder on the vanity tray someone pulled out of somewhere. Another couple of bills were slipped his way and your blonde took control, sliding out lines with a matte black credit card. You hadn't seen one like that before.

"C'mere," the Aussie was leaning over you now, nearly ramming you into Nevada's chest as the two of them spoke in succinct whispers behind your head. Excusing yourself at the calling, you graciously joined the latest purchase, sitting on the knee opposite of the mirror. "What was your name?" Every syllable cut like a sword, and you fidgeted to try and balance yourself with your hands on his thigh. Absently, you thought you could recall his accent from a movie about a war. German?

"Natalia," you lied, beaming up at him before he sniffed two of the many slices he had laid out. The others were discussing heatedly; but every once in awhile Nevada checked your face while leaving kisses on his lap ornament's throat. You seemed fine. You thought you were.

You were about to be even better. The blonde held your hair back in one firm hand without you having to ask, and used the ball of his fist on the back of your neck to guide you down. Naturally, you had expected the mirror to be raised so you could lean forward to take yours, but instead he apparently thought you should bend. You had to twist and arch to reach the drugs on his other leg, until your chest nearly hit your knee in the process. It was hard to breathe, so you took three for the trouble.

He pulled you up a little quicker than you would have liked, and you thought for a second he snagged your necklace. Fortunately, it was just your hair catching in the chinks in his Rolex.

"Ahh, Natalia," you didn't like how he said it. You liked using Natalia's name because it gave you confidence when you thought of her. She was sly, smooth, and always capable. But this man was starting to give you a bad vibe. He liked moving you; flipping your hair so it fell where he apparently thought it should, shifting your legs so you were practically left straddling his, scooting you by your hips so you sat up against his chest anyway. He told you his name was Mr. Smith- you didn't believe him, but you weren't being honest either. He went back to sorting out the powder on the tray with one hand and using the other to encircle your thigh with his warm palm. His grip tightened, bringing you back to reality. He had been speaking.

"I'm sorry?" You asked coquettishly, making up for having not been listening by pressing your chest up against his arm to try and get your ear closer to his lips. Mr. Smith chuckled, moving the arm out from in front of you so he could go back to manipulating your spine with a pinch on your neck.

"I was saying," he sounded annoyed, but you couldn't bring yourself to care all too much. He didn't sound as scary as Nevada did when he was annoyed. "How much do you charge to have some more private fun?" You shook your head in rejection- you didn't do that. You knew Nevada would probably gut you if you ever did. Mr. Smith's eyes squint at your denial- he didn't like that. "I didn't know whores were picky?" He asked flatly before using his hold and the force of his hand to again twist you down. Down, down, until you were nearly bent in half. It hurt, and you tried to straighten yourself out by sliding forward on his leg towards his knee, but he didn't make it easy and pulled your tresses to show he disapproved. You visibly winced.

Nevada eyeballed you, squinting a bit as he drew little circles around his brunette's knee. "Natalia," he sang out knowingly, giving you a look that made you think he noticed the situation you were getting yourself in. Smith flinched when he heard 'your name' and let go of your hair. The sudden switch from manipulation to release didn't give you time to fix your balance, and you fell to the ground by his shoe with a soft thud that you didn't think anyone could really hear over the music. The men in suits chuckled at you from your spot on the floor, and you swallowed your embarrassment before trying to get to your feet. Mr. Smith placed a hand on your shoulder and applied pressure to try and keep you in your precarious position, perched on your toes and facing him between his legs.

Nevada didn't approve, and finally moved to intervene. He eased the brunette down first, politely helping her to standing before rising himself. Strolling the few steps to you two, he smiled at the blonde and held out his little friend's hand for him to take. "If you're wanting that kind of party, amigo, may I suggest someone not so mouthy?" The men laughed, and the brunette curled up in the place you had previously sat. She was an expert; you always admired Nevada's girls. They were the sirens; men flocked from miles to come lay with one of his prostitutes, and they certainly weren't cheap. Nevada had the best girls because they knew the perks of working with him; the protection and the publicity. They had nothing to fear and nothing to worry about if they gave him his cut, and with their prices, they never seemed to mind.

"Natalia," he repeated his sister's name while reaching for you, and you graciously took his hand in response. Mr. Smith and his second purchase of the evening began coddling, and Nevada pulled you into his lap and lay his arms heavily across your legs to keep you still. You weren't going anywhere. Apparently these men weren't as easy to con as the boys at the house parties he used you at so often, this was a bit of a bigger job than he had initially thought it would be. Men that were more important than he thought, and much less afraid of stepping on toes. He started to think he had made a mistake bringing you along, but instead of admitting it; Nevada made sure you were under his hands for the rest of the evening. Not his spiffy gentlemen friends'.

You'd still beg him for the promised two months, though.  
He'd give you one.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhh this one's a lil bit hot n heavy, I don't write smut much so it's a little succinct compared to to my usual wordiness but you get the drift.
> 
> If you're not into smutty / sexy stuff then you may wanna skip this one. I'll kick in a "Safe For Work" briefing at the beginning of the next chapter.
> 
> Happy Labor day.

“You’re teasing, niñita,” Nevada spoke at you in a dark, warning tone. You knew that voice. That voice meant “stop”. But you didn’t want to stop.

He had efficiently killed your dating pool, which you were starting to think he was intending to do. Between always lingering while you tried to sneak away, beating his men for having fun with you, and sending pictures of himself to possible suitors; there weren’t many boys left close by who would be inclined to oblige you. He had made a name for you, his necklace marked you, and the boys didn’t want the trouble that you brought along with you.

You had to find one that wasn’t scared.  
Nevada was never scared.

“Mmm, mmmm, mmm” you hummed a tune against his skin, sending soft vibrations through his neck. You thought you could feel goosebumps under your lips. It could be the drugs, likely was; it could be the booze, or it could just be your longing reaching a peak. But you were getting tired of your and Nevada’s game. You didn’t want to play tonight. You wanted to win.

“Niñita,” He spoke harshly, and wrapped a fist in your hair so he could physically pull your face from his throat. You were distracting him. He had been minding his own business, being a good Trujillo and counting his money, when you and Natalia finally meandered in from the club. She fell asleep easy since she hadn’t been feeling all too well the last week; but you felt just fine, and so instead of joining her in bed you had slunk from her room and crawled yourself across the couch on all fours. “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he advised gruffly while holding your face so close to his, you thought you could taste the nicotine from his cigar he had just discarded. You certainly planned on finishing.

You didn’t speak, but instead; your tongue darted out between you; and you delicately, seductively traced the tip along his bottom, plumped lip.

Nevada smiled, and his eyebrows rose in surprise at your bold move- he bit onto the lip you had just skimmed. This was getting interesting. He chuckled gently, using his free hand to pat at your soft cheeks as he had done before. You assumed he would dismiss you, and you rolled your eyes royally at his condescension, beginning your descent off the sofa by inching away-

Then the tides turned  
And you got what you were asking for.

With his grip in your hair, he had more control than you realized, and you flinched as he pulled ruthlessly on your tresses to send your lips crashing into his. Nevada tasted of smoke, booze, and the unmistakable hint of power that radiated from everything he did. This would be no exception. You were no exception. He bit onto your bottom lip, pulling it with him as he opened his eyes once more to gauge your reaction.

You sighed into his mouth, and Nevada went wild. He pulled harder, making you fuss as your chin dipped into the air, and he went on mumbling about ‘little mamacitas’ and ‘problemas’ as he released your hair to grab firm hold of your hips. You were dragged easily across the sofa, until you were placed sternly atop his lap and facing him. His jeans pinched at the skin of your thighs as you squirmed, and your dress was no match for his hands as he forced the little purple skirt up so you could feel the strain of his manhood against his jeans through your thin silk panties.

One hand went up, under the front of your dress so he could slither his wrist between your breasts and place a light hold on your throat. Just enough to keep you still and your chin raised, just enough to support you as you leaned into his arm. He could see his pendant gleaming at him over your dress. His other hand went down, slipping gently along your smooth belly until curious fingertips slid inside your underwear. Knowingly, Nevada used three rough and talented fingers to roll gentle circles over your most sensitive oasis, and your hips writhed involuntarily in tune.

“Ay, you wanted to dance, Mami?” He was whispering while nodding, but it was still terrifying, and your back arched as his warm breath poured over your ear. “Is that what you kept saying at the club?” Your eyelids fluttered.You always wanted to dance, he knew it, but his taunting was music to your ears and these steps were new to you. His fingertips moved faster, harder, and more urgent; you finally whimpered aloud when you couldn’t contain yourself any more. “Si, niñita? You wanted to dance with the lil’ niños?” He was staring at you, you could feel it, even if you couldn’t turn your face to see him. You were under his control, his spell; caught on his magic fingers and breathing heavy against his grip on your neck.

“Nooo no no,” your hands went to his shoulders, and you worked quickly to try and shove his jacket down his arms. He wasn’t cooperating, and instead spread your hidden lips with two fingers so the middle one could play inside of your folds, tapping tantalizingly at your swollen clit. You lurched with each touch but he held you still. “Noo, Nevada,” you cooed as you felt yourself losing your breath; “I want to dance with you.”

Using his hold on your throat, he pulled you in, and kissed your lips before slipping his wandering fingers inside of you; all three at once. You whined, surprised by the sudden intrusion, and he broke your connection to smile against your skin. “Are you suuuuuure, niñita?” Nevada asked in the same way you had a few weeks before when on all fours in his escalade. His turn to tease, the ball was in his court. “Are you suuuure you wanna dance with Trujillo?” He worked his fingers along your smooth walls, curling expertly to hit the spots he knew so well, rolling his thumb in succinct and swift circles over the sensitive bud. Nevada was no stranger to women, he knew what they wanted. What you wanted. You wouldn’t have guessed he would have been quite so proficient, though; and now you only wanted more.

“Si,” you moaned before shamelessly diving your hands between you two, trying to undo his belt buckle despite being unable to look down with his grip holding your throat stiff. Your hips rocked precisely along with his wrist, he bit his lip as he watched you writhe. After a few dreamy moments of your dance, Nevada laughed devilishly; and before you could claim success with his pants, you felt his hold on your neck tighten. Too tight, way too tight, and you sputtered his name helplessly. As soon as you did, he let go on all ends, and rose hastily to his feet without warning. The sudden switch sent you tumbling to the floor, breathless and whimpering as he sneered down at you and went to work fixing his jacket you had disheveled.

“You can’t keep up with Trujillo, honey,” he laughed at you from your spot on the hardwood after he caught his own breath, and unblushingly hollowed his cheeks once he slid the fingers he had used on you in his mouth, sucking off what remained of your sex. Nevada licked his lips crudely before flitting the same wrist at you, taking his seat again and going back to work counting the piles of cash. “I’m fucking busy, niñita.” He didn’t even look up at you, “Go to bed.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t want to. You felt used, silly, and mostly just; little. You were embarrassed and frustrated, a hot blush rising to your cheeks as you snarled at the cocky bastard. He was playing with you; he was always fucking playing with you. Finally, you rose from the floor, not even bothering to fix your dress as you crossed the room to go sleep by Natalia. Before you slammed the door behind you, you glanced curiously over your shoulder.

Nevada didn’t look up.  
Nevada was busy, placing stacks of paper bills carefully around the edge of the table.  
Nevada was doing Nevada.

And so, you went to bed. You’d never mention this to anyone, and you’d hope Nevada would just forget.

What you didn’t see was how he kicked at the table with both feet after the door shut, how all his precisely laid stacks of cash tumbled mercilessly to the ground. You didn’t see him cover his face with his hands, you didn’t see him rake his fingers through his hair and glare back at the door you had disappeared behind. You didn’t see him shove all the loose bills into a bag and you didn’t see him readjust himself as he walked to his room. You didn't see him fall to his bed, and you wouldn't have known how he stared longingly at the ceiling without even daring to pleasure himself.

You didn’t see any of it, because he didn’t want you to.

Nevada always got what he wanted.  
But what about when Nevada didn’t know what that was?


	13. Chapter 13

You and Natalia sat in the doorway to her bathroom, facing the other with your backs against the frame. Her legs had crossed in with yours, and you both remained stoic and silent as the time seemed to crawl by. 3 minutes, the box had said. You two had become experts in waiting; you waited for the other to get ready, you waited for Nevada to come get you. And now, you waited with each other, while staring at clocks set up on different walls. 

Never before had three minutes seemed to take so fucking long. 

"I can't look," Natalia started fussing again; she had been doing so well, little tears fell down her cheeks and crashed to the hardwood beneath her. "I don't know what I'll do." 

You only nodded, and twisted to use the door frame as leverage to rise to your feet. "I'll check it," you offered plainly as you tip toed over the tile. She watched you through her fingertips, covering her face as if it would protect her from the situation any more than being exposed. 

Taking a seat on the lid of the toilet, you took a deep breath- this could change everything. With two fingers, you oh so carefully picked up the little plastic stick, and squint so you could focus on the little screen. 

"So?" Now she was suddenly in a rush. Natalia spun so she was on all fours, and began to crawl her way towards you. 

You covered your mouth, and tears welled up in your eyes. Immediately after a quick mental confirmation, you slid off until your knees crashed into the tiles hard enough to leave little square indents in your skin. Coiling your arms around your best friend, you pulled her tight against you, and leaned back against the cool bath tub as you smoothed her hair while she shuddered. Immediately, she began sobbing. 

"You're gonna be a mommy, mami," You managed through a hiccup, and she whimpered against your shirt. Natalia reached to the side, grabbing hold of the test to confirm for herself- two little pink lines stared back at her. You kissed the top of her head, repeatedly, as she cycled through tears of fear and happiness. 

"Don't fucking tell Nevada," she finally managed while grabbing your hand and holding your fist up in front of her. Prying your pinky out the side, she curled her own around it, and kissed her thumb to seal the promise. "You can't tell Nevada." 

"Shhhh," you shook your head and shushed her, this wasn't about Nevada and you wouldn't let her make it about him. And you couldn't make a promise you didn't know if you could keep. People didn’t just keep secrets from Nevada. "Shhh, we need to go the store and get you vitamins Natalia, let's go take care of you now." 

\---

"This was a good idea." 

Natalia scoffed, "I always have good ideas." 

You two were laid out alongside a pool, a 'girls’ day' you called it. Natalia had convinced Nevada to pull some strings so the two of you could spend the afternoon at a fancy club with a large outdoor swimming pool. It had been so incredibly hot the last couple days, and between hiding Natalia's condition and working at the restaurant, you were exhausted. 

"Do you need more water?" You sat up, dangling legs over the edge of your chair as you began to muster the motivation to go get more drinks. Your little drink was no more than melted ice and an umbrella toothpick at this point, and Natalia nodded eagerly at your offer. 

"With a lemon pleeaase?" She begged without even opening her eyes. You smirked, standing and wrapping an oversized, gauzy pink sarong around yourself so you could tie it as a halter behind your neck. You grabbed your little purple clutch then waltzed your way past the yuppies and screaming children- in search of the bar. 

\---

Nevada had been sitting at the bar with some other men when you wandered in. You tried to ignore him, but how exactly did one ever manage to do that? "Ayee, niñita," He was already walking your way while you leaned against the bar's edge on your arms. "This is cute, where'd you get it? I didn't get it," he mumbled mostly to himself while running his fingers shamelessly over the loose fabric of your cover up. He must be showing off, you figured. Why else would he bother fondling your clothes when he had a group of men patiently watching and waiting for him? 

"I got it," you answered briskly before placing your order with the waiting bartender: a screwdriver and water, with lemon. Nevada raised an eyebrow, surprised by the request. 

"Water?" He asked nosily, cocking his head to the side as he continued to slip the material between his fingertips. Apparently he liked your sarong. You wished he'd stop doing that. "Why are you drinking water? You're no fun." 

You huffed, shrugging him off of you so the fabric fell out of his grip. "I'm not, it's for Natalia, she doesn't feel too hot." 

"She is alwaaayyyys complaining," He groaned dramatically, it must run in the family. He leaned back against the bar so he could look in your face. "I get you girls here to play, and she orders water,” He again started playing with the loose end of your cover up, “I'm gonna go tell her to stop being a little-"

"Watch your mouth, Nevada," You hissed angrily while shamelessly slapping his hand away; he was annoying you. You were just trying to have a good time with your friend, and now you had Nevada talking shit while you patiently waited like a good girl for your booze. Protective you came out in full force; "She's got enough going on without you hounding her all the damn time." 

"Enough going on?" You suddenly had his full attention, and the way he looked at you made your cheeks flush. Even the slightest slip was always enough to give him ideas. "What's going on?" He twisted your words, and stared knowingly into your eyes. Perhaps he didn't know what you were hiding, but he could tell you were hiding something. 

"Nothing, you're just awful," You lied while picking up the drinks from the bartender who smiled when you grinned at him. "If you'll excuuuuuse me, Vada, I'm going back to lay out-"

He grabbed a firm hold of your elbow, nearly causing you to spill your screwdriver as he twisted you back his way. Why couldn't he have put the cheaper drink at risk? It was going to bruise; you knew it- couldn't he be his angry self without leaving marks all over your skin? "You don't hide things from me," Nevada spoke precisely, intently, and pulled you closer as he did. "You tell Nevada when you know things are going on, you got it niñita?" 

"Of course, Nevada," You dropped your sour attitude and switched to reverence, nodding in agreement with his order. Between his friends watching and his typically chaotic nature, you knew offending him would be the worst thing you could do. At this point, you just wanted to get out of there. "Of course, I wouldn't hide nothin' from you." 

He let you go, and propped himself up from the bar's edge so he stood over you for a moment, raising his chin authoritatively as he pondered. "Maybe I'll come join you two," he suggested cockily, and gave a swift tug to the knot you had tied to keep your sarong in place, almost causing the tie to become undone. "I bet everything looks nicer outside." 

"Okay, Nevada," you nodded again, sticking with compliance and keeping him happy before scurrying out of the bar as fast as you could. This secret keeping may be harder than you thought. 

"Who's your girl Nevada?" You heard someone call out from the other end of the room. You wouldn't bother checking who said it, you really didn't care. 

"She's not my girl," you heard Nevada explain gruffly as he went over to sit by the man who had been speaking. "She's my niñita, don't worry about her..." 

\---

"Seat taken?" 

You were blinded by the sunlight when you first opened your eyes, so you used your hand as a shield to see who had asked. That voice sounded just slightly familiar. A young man wearing a leather jacket and jeans in 90 degree weather at a swimming pool? There were weirder things that happened around here. 

"Nah," You shook your head while surveying the empty seat next to you. Natalia was staring, unblushingly so. You couldn't blame her, the boy looked handsome enough, but currently his head was eclipsing the sun- you couldn't get a good look at him even if you wanted to, but you certainly didn't think he looked like he was here for swimming. "Nah, it's open." 

He took a seat, smirking a bit as he put both feet on the side facing your chair, so he was sat up and looking at you instead of laying down to rest. You perked an eyebrow, rolling your head to the side once you felt his eyes on you- he actually did look quite charming. Tall, thin, and blue eyes you don't think you could ever forget. "So, uh; you know Nevada?" He asked shyly, and you thought for a second that you saw him tremble. Was he nervous to talk to you? One of Nevada’s business partners was stammering when speaking to you? That was weird. 

"Oh, yea," You motioned over to Natalia, "she's his sister." She waved with wiggling fingers under her chin upon being referenced, and you rolled her eyes. 

He mimicked her unblushingly, squinting his eyes and pursing lips to make you two laugh. It worked. "Then who are you?" He brushed his brunette hair to one side with his hand, moving some of his dark strands from his eyes. 

"She's Nevada's niñita," Natalia answered without being asked, and she giggled as you cursed in Spanish and threw an ice cube at her stomach. She lurched and whined at the cold assault. 

"I'm her best friend," you corrected, rather loudly. You'd much rather be known as Natalia's girl than Nevada's. "We're havin' a girls' day," you added coyly while wriggling your hips. The stranger nodded, still smiling as he ran his thumb along his bottom lip. He hadn't taken his eyes off of you since he joined you. It was nice, it felt like you were important. You rarely felt so important for such innocent reasons. 

"Well I don't want to interrupt girls' day," He shimmied the same way you had, bringing another smile to your face before he leaned boldly forward. He held his balance by putting a hand on your chair mere inches from your skin, and pulled a business card from his back pocket. Procuring a pen from behind his ear, he jotted something down, before handing it out for you to take. "But if you ever have a free evening, you should call me." 

You took the card, eyeing the text carefully. "Gerald?" You asked curiously, and he nodded in response. The card had his name and the name of what you assumed was a law firm, the LLP gave it away. There was a fax number and an office number printed in dark ink, and an additional nine digits scrawled out across the bottom with a star drawn by it. What was Nevada doing talking to lawyers? "I might be able to pencil you in," you added smartly while placing the card on your chest and tapping against the paper with your fingertips. 

"Please do," Gerald hoisted himself up, straightening his jacket before repeating the childish wave from before. You returned the finger waggles as he walked away, and then took another careful look at the card. It was suspicious, you had to admit, finally recognizing the voice as the man who had shouted at Nevada while you were at the bar. Suspicious but sweet. 

"If you don't, I'm going to," Natalia advised without even looking over at you. She had already gone back to reposing; eyes shut and chin up at the sun. 

"I might," you shrugged, and slid the business card in your clutch. 


	14. Chapter 14

You couldn't breathe, or speak. What could you have said? 

Natalia was sobbing in your arms; coiled hopelessly around your waist with her face buried in your neck. You rocked with her, the floor was stiff against your tailbone but it was the only thing you could bring yourself to do. She had called you all of twenty minutes ago- you literally ran the couple blocks to her apartment after hearing her try to speak through her tears. Softly, you started whispering a lullaby, and she shuddered against your chest. Finally coming out of her entanglement, she lay her cheek between your sternum and shoulder, using a hand to flip her hair out of her wet face before speaking. 

"He was so fucking young," she couldn't even finish the statement before losing herself to her sorrow once more. Something inside of you was raging- a fireworks explosion? Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to mess with the Trujillo's warehouse, and further, what kind of special imbecile did it take to not think of being more careful with such volatile explosives? Did they know what they had done? "So fucking little, he still went to bed with toys..." 

"Shhh," you tried to hush her since you couldn't find any other words to speak. Her nephew had passed away, oh so tragically, at the hands of god-knows-who. Was it related to the business, done by men who paid cohorts to explore and destroy? Was it really an accident, just some kids playing with fire and not ready to confront the burn? You combed her curls out of her eyes, and shifted so your legs would wake up, they had fallen asleep under her weight. 

"Can you stay here tonight?" Natalia begged through hiccups, clutching onto the material of your white shirt in her hands as she shook you. Could you? You weren't so sure, you had work that evening but this seemed to be a great reason to call in. Would you? 

"Of course I can," you kissed the top of her head, rocking again and smiling as you felt her relax and start to unwind. You weren't going anywhere, you never went anywhere if Natalia needed you. Now she just needed you more than ever. "I can cook us some dinner in a couple hours and we'll stay in and watch those stupid tv shows you like so much." 

She laughed, an angelic giggle you never knew you could love so much until it had been too long since you'd heard it. Natalia stretched out her legs, and climbed up from the spot you two had been in on the floor. Grabbing your arm, she dragged you up with her, and nodded in agreeance as you two made your way to the couch. A joint lay on the coffee table, she had rolled one in preparation of your arrival, and she quickly went to work sparking it up as you took a seat beside her. She didn't hit it; she had been too entrenched in her baby books you bought her to bother with drugs anymore. 

"You don't have to cook, though," Natalia squirmed so she could lean against your shoulder, she didn't call you over to put you to work. She had you come over because she needed you there, "Nevada's coming by later, we'll make him pick us up something." 

Of course he was. 

\--- 

Nevada wasn't Nevada when he came into the door that evening. 

He had brought you two Chinese, in the little Styrofoam containers that squeaked when he sat them on the table. Garbed in the blackest of black, not too unusual but notably done purposely this time, he looked like death itself. He left the food without another word, and turned towards the sofa to see you coming to greet him. Frozen, like a great statue, in the art museum you never went to; he chewed on the inside of his cheek as his lip trembled. 

You embraced him, carefully draping your arms around his chest in hopes to spark a smile on his face- it never came. Instead, he welcomed you, even coiled his own arms tightly around your shoulders and pulled you against him. The two of you stood tangled in each other for a moment, until he surprised you. 

Nevada physically trembled; it caused you to shudder when you were rattled with his unfamiliar weakness. Cautiously, you started to pull away, but the move only made him cling tighter. You raked your fingers through his hair, letting him hide his face in your neck as you skimmed his scalp. His knees went weak, and before you could prepare, Nevada had fallen onto them; he pressed his face against your stomach over your shirt and leaned himself against your legs. You could feel his tears soak through, and it turned the handle between your own eyes. 

He wrapped his hands around your hips, holding onto his own arms in the dip of your back as he hid his crying, and you hopelessly held onto the back of his head as you wept as well. The Titanic had sunk, the great Trujillo had fallen, and you were now there to send out the life boats. 

"Nevada, honey," you barely spoke, but he responded, shamelessly rising his chin so his throat rest against your pelvis and his jaw poked into your stomach. You could only stroke his face, wiping his tears off of his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs. "Vada, let's go sit down, let's go rest." You suggested lightly, and he only closed his eyes while listening to the song of your voice. He hadn't said a word since he arrived; apparently you both were stricken speechless from the horrors of the day. 

Finally, after a few more moments of you tracing his jaw line and combing back his hair, Nevada let go of his vice grip around your thighs. He ran his hands up and down your legs in apology, before rising to his feet. Sniffling, he cupped your face in his hands, and left a thankful kiss on your forehead. He lingered, longer than usual, and you held onto his wrists to keep him still. 

"Si, niñita." He finally agreed, stepping abruptly away from you as he made his way to the couch Natalia had been laying on. They sat on opposite ends, leaving your spot waiting and open between them. 

\--- 

"Hey, Vada," you spoke airily, hoping not to take him by surprise too terribly as he jerked back from the trance he had been in. It was late; you all had been on the couch for hours now. You couldn't blame him for not paying attention, no more than you could blame sweet Natalia for fading to dreamland as you sat next to her. "Nevada, I'm gonna get out of here-"

"Why?" He cut you off, and his hand closest to you immediately fell to your knee. You swallowed, sympathy obvious in your eyes. It felt wrong leaving them, but you had traded a coworker shifts in order to stay as long as you already had- you were on the early bird bus tomorrow. In at 5am. It was nearing midnight. 

"I got work in the morning, honey." You placed your hand on his, giving a reassuring squeeze that he returned to your knee cap. Fire and tickles shot down your leg. "I'm gonna come back in the afternoon, though." You dropped the silver lining and smiled, trying to pry one from him, "I'm gonna bring some lunch, I'll bring you some too." 

Nevada shook his head, lip trembling up into a snarl. You hadn't seen him like this before. It was like watching the fall of Rome, it was almost scarier than when Trujillo came to call. "You need a new fucking job, niñita." He almost muffled the statement to obscurity by speaking through his fingers, his face was rested in his hand and his eyes were back on you. The TV was unimportant; you didn't think any of you had been really watching it in the first place. 

"I can't keep pushing my luck there, Nevada," You started to rise from the couch but his grip on your knee tightened again, hindering your attempt. "I need that job to pay rent." 

"Fuck them, niñita," he grumbled, and you quickly sat back down while grabbing hold of his arm. You didn't want him getting agitated. Not now, he didn't need that now. "I got you, you tell them fuck them-"

"Nevada," you pushed yourself against him, so he tumbled against the arm of the sofa and you were able to wrap your arms around his chest. "Nevada, stop," you pecked an innocent kiss on his jaw, like you used to do when you actually were a niñita. "I'll stay, I'm here." 

You fell asleep that night between the two; Natalia had tangled herself between your legs and coiled her arms around your hips, her head had found a pillow in the soft part of your tummy. Your torso was trapped within Nevada's tight embrace- your face laid against his cool tee shirt and his head leaned against your hair, while old infomercials teased the ghosts in the room with their wares. 

You woke up late, closer to ten than five. Your phone had been silenced, but three hundred dollar bills lay with it. Cringing, you picked your head up from the arm of the couch- Nevada hadn't even stayed. Cursing, you pocketed your cell phone and untangled Natalia from your legs before jumping to your feet. You left the money behind as you rushed for your purse and bolted out the door. You didn't want that money, you hadn't done anything and he had no reason to apologize with cash. You hadn't earned it. You didn't want it. 

And he noticed. 

Oh, Nevada noticed. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm usually pretty consistent at updating- but just a heads up; I'm getting married very soon & am entrenched in planning for that and the honeymoon. It's likely things will be pretty quiet on my end for the next couple weeks, but I have a few chapters already drafted and ready to add, so hopefully it'll be more like a drizzle than a drought. :)

"Gerald?"

Nevada paused, nearly dropping his knife and fork as he searched your face for confirmation. Honestly, of all the questions you could have asked him, this was the one that took him by surprise. "Why do you care about Gerald?"

You shrugged aloofly, trying not to seem all too terribly concerned. He wouldn't tell you anything if he thought you really wanted it that bad, at least not for free. "He seems nice," you explained succinctly. Natalia nodded in agreement, hoping to take some of the pressure off of you so he wouldn't get hot headed.

"He's a polite boy, you don't usually work with nice guys," She took a sip of her ginger ale before pushing him further, "do you work with him a lot?"

"Why didn't you get wine?" Nevada turned the tables, he was good at that. Apparently the Gerald conversation would have to be had later. It was hard to pull one over on Nevada; he was devastatingly keen to details. Almost as hard as it was to believe that Natalia hadn't touched alcohol in weeks.

"I didn't want any, I don't feel good," she huffed, and you dropped a hand to place on her thigh in hopes of calming her nerves. Natalia's palm fell on top of yours, and she squeezed, thankful.

His glare narrowed, and you felt her tremble under his eyes. "Anyways," Natalia continued, pushing around some pasta on her plate with a fork. "That Gerald boy seems nice; his business cards are even the shiny kind."

"How long have you been sick?" Nevada pouted, as if he were really concerned. You girls knew better. Natalia glared, not even justifying his condescension with an answer.

"Lay off, Nevada," you jabbed warningly, and his jaw dropped as he turned to instead face you. You were getting bold, daringly so, and he didn't think he appreciated it. You needed put in your place.

"Gerald," He started speaking quickly, wiping at his hands with a napkin before ditching it onto his plate. "Gerry is a smart man, he knows what he's doing and I like what he's doing," he was nodding in reverence and approval, a rare sight for him, "so sometimes we work together." Nevada laced his fingers, eyeing you carefully to gauge your interest. It made you nervous, and your shifting in your seat made it even more obvious to him.

"Don't worry, Niñita," He rose to his feet and went to fishing through a stack of bills, apparently suddenly ready to leave. "Gerry likes those classy ladies," he nodded carefully, to prove his knowledge of the subject, and fluttered his fingers in the air to refer to the apparently hypothetical women. "You know, the ones who don't need anybody," he added swiftly, looking up at you only with his eyes as he counted through the final tip and dropped it on the table top. If looks could kill. "Not girls in miniskirts who trade shoes and clutches for picking up fucking drugs."

You scowled, a pit in your stomach forming as he spat his final bit of venom. You had been asking for respect from a snake, and it looks like you got bit. "Fuck you, Nevada," you hissed in aggravation as he took his leave.

"You've tried that," He laughed aloud, shouting it over the conversations of other patrons and the rattling of forks with knives against plates. "And you lost!"

"What?" Natalia curiously looked over to you, and you shamelessly chugged your wine and the remainder of Nevada's.

"Nothing, let's get the fuck out of here..."

\---

"So why are you Niñita, though?" He said it wrong, but he was trying so damn hard. It was almost cute.

"I dunno," you shrugged and giggled, "I fuckin' hate it."

He smiled across at you, oh how you liked his smile. Gerald was someone you didn't see very often, maybe once every couple weeks, but you remembered him from the pool when you first met. You couldn't forget those eyes. He seemed a bit young for Nevada's business partners, but he still dressed like them. Uniformity is key, you know. You had found your way to the VIP area and he was there, easily recognizable and as handsome as ever. Now you two sat, kneecaps to kneecaps, leaning forward childishly over your laps to whisper in hushed tones as the other men all discussed figures and numbers. Your temples touched as you spoke, trying to funnel nervous voices into the other's ear.

"What's it mean?" He furrowed his brows and eagerly scooted closer, wanting to get let in on the secret. As he moved, he parted his knees, so your legs went on the inside of his own. He plopped his elbows on your thighs, resting his chin in his hands as he waited patiently. You thought of touching his face, but wouldn't dare. Not here, not now.

"Little girl," you advised, shaking your head and glancing at the ground after admitting to it. Your face was brought back up as he shamelessly reached for your chin, forcing your eyes back on him. Not that you minded. You could look at him all day.

"Nah, you're no little girl," Gerald chuckled, pinching your chin as you stuck your tongue out at him teasingly. "You're a beautiful young laaaaady," He rose to his feet, grabbing at your hands to try and pull you up. You let him. "Now, are you gonna come dance with me or what?" His hands fell to the small of your back, and you beamed up at him while nodding eagerly- you loved to dance. Gerry spun you by a hold on your wrist, and held onto your hips as you tried to lead and sneak your way back out to the commotion of the dance floor.

You two didn't get far.

"Gerald!" Nevada shouted in his sing-song tone, and your friend's hands immediately came off of your dress. He was guided away by Nevada's strong grip on his shoulder, and he hesitantly allowed himself to be led away. "Let the niñita go play, you and I have business." Nevada condescendingly flit his wrist at you, efficiently dismissing you from their VIP section.

And so, without protest, you held your clutch to your side and left. Of course, you wanted to wait for Gerald, but going against Nevada was not in your itinerary for the evening.

The dance floor, however, certainly was.

\---

"You know," Nevada was talking from the front seat, but loud enough to earn both of your attentions. Natalia was in the backseat behind the driver, and you had lounged across the leather so you could lay your head in her lap. You were drunk; she was just sickly and bored, so she had absently been braiding strands of your hair to keep her mind off things. You didn't mind- it actually felt nice.

His pause was to assure you were listening, and Natalia sighed dramatically before obliging him; "Yes, Nevada?"

"You know, I've done so much for you girls," He turned a bit, so he could face you both despite the seating arrangements. "It'd be a shame for either of you to interrupt my business."

A shame? What did he mean by that? It sounded like a veiled threat, but you couldn't really decipher his tone.

"Me and my partners," he pointed to himself with his fingertips, "we're busy men, you know. You think I pay your bills because I sit on my ass fucking with little mamacitas all day?"

"You pay SOME of my bills," you corrected drunkenly, raising a hand in the air to try and easily differentiate yourself from the focus of his rant. He scowled at you, and you brought your arm back to drape over your face. He was a lot less scary when you couldn't see him.

"I pay ENOUGH of your fucking bills, niñita." He was physically twisted at this point, so he nearly was in the back seat with you two. Determined. "And I won't be able to do that if you distract my partners."

Natalia groaned, annoyed with you two bickering already. "Nevada, leave her alone, if your men want to play then it's not her fault." She defended you boldly, and sneered right back when her brother shot her a deadly glare. "Maybe you should tell them to keep their hands to themselves."

"Are you embarrassed, Vada?" You taunted from your best friend's lap, and you could feel her tense up beneath you. You were done with his authority; he had ruined your chance at getting close to Gerald and was now berating you, he had done enough this evening. You didn’t want to play his games anymore, not tonight. "Embarrassed maybe someone would rather dance with Niñita than work with Trujillo?" Natalia covered your mouth with her hands, muffling any other alcohol-fueled commentary you could have come up with, while biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Finally, Nevada turned to sit properly in his seat. "Don't fucking call me that," he hissed, and turned his attention to his cell phone while efficiently ignoring you girls for the rest of the ride to Natalia's. You wondered what he was up to, who he was talking to- but it was too much for you to bother with tonight. “And don’t forget what we talked about that night. I don’t go back on my word.” You just wanted to get home.


	16. Chapter 16

Despite the car conversations from a few evenings before, Nevada had been oddly jocular. Maybe it was the new pot he had gotten recently, 'good shit' as he reminded you and Natalia while passing you the joint. 

"You need to be more like your friend here," Nevada teased his little sister while coiling an arm over your shoulders. You three were sitting in a VIP section of a little cigar bar, in a corner booth that had a bench covered in red leather that you all shared. "She doesn't bitch as much as you do." His business partner had just left not too long ago, so it was time to relax. 

"I just said I was tired," She mumbled a profanity afterwards, taking a generous drink of water from her glass. You frowned sympathetically, trying to lean forward to comfort her. Nevada wouldn't let you, stopping you by placing his palm under the chain of your necklace and flush against your sternum. 

"Tired," Nevada scoffed, using his arm to tug your face closer to his lips so he could fake-whisper. "She's not tired, just whiny." 

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his condescension. Sure, they were like this often- but usually poor Natalia wasn't suffering an internal struggle while taking his verbal beating. You took her hand in yours, tangling your fingers to try and let her know you were still there for her. 

"Niñita, drink," he insisted, pouring more champagne into your crystal flute while leaning his head against yours. You knew this game. He was showing favor to one of you in hopes of upsetting the other. It rarely worked, unless you girls were already fighting, so you were surprised he was trying to take that route. 

It just showed he knew there was something going on. And he was desperate to find out what.

You drank, as instructed, and giggled as the bubbles hit your throat. "You know, Nevada, I'm not all up and moving either," if he wanted to play favorites, you'd take advantage of your role. "Why don't we go to Natalia's? I think I still have some blow there." 

He glared, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he tried to read your motives. Gingerly, he traced a fingertip along your throat where the chain of his gifted necklace lay. Goosebumps and Hell fire were left in its wake. "You wanna go to Natalia's?" He asked gently, surprisingly so- so gently, in fact, that you hesitated before answering. 

You both held eye contact, longer than usual, and you saw his mouth slowly curl into that smile that made your blood run cold. He was up to something. "Yea, Vada," you broke the stare, smiling innocently while you reached again to take another drink of champagne. "Yea, I wanna go to Natalia's." 

He nodded, and you could still feel him staring at you as you turned towards Natalia. She smiled back at you, thankful, and squeezed the hold she had on your hand. "Okay, niñita, okay," Nevada used his arm around your shoulder to pull you in, and he landed a kiss on your temple. 

Both of you girls gave each other puzzled looks- he was being far too nice to you. 

\---

He had dug through the trash can.  
The smart bastard had dug through the goddamn trash can. 

What was he looking for initially? You'd never know. But what he found was worse than anything else he probably could have stumbled upon. He had come out of the bathroom fuming, leaving both of you confused as you were working to pour out cocaine in the guest bedroom and she turned the pages in a book she was reading on the couch. Immediately, he infiltrated himself into your otherwise pleasant evening, and shoved the little plastic stick into her face. 

"WHO'S IS IT?" He was howling at poor Natalia, who had curled herself up into the corner of the sofa when she noticed him approaching. Neither of you had taken credit for the positive test as of yet; she was too afraid and you were too stubborn. 

"NEVADA STOP!" Natalia cried once she felt overwhelmed, and you quickly crossed the room to physically put yourself between the two. She hid behind your back, gripping onto your shirt with her fingers as you glowered at an angry Nevada. 

Fine, if you wanted the attention on you, he'd give it. "You know," he pointed a finger directly in your face, nearly touching the tip of your nose. "You fucking know, is it you?" His glare narrowed as he watched your face, gauging every sniffle and tremble as fear overtook you. "You're pregnant?" His face seemed to drop- was that disappointment? Sadness? "After everything I've done for you, all these damn years, you go and get knocked up by some niñito?!" The confusing look dissipated, into an undeniable rage; "Who the fuck is the boy?" His tone terrified you, it sounded like a death sentence. 

"It's none of your business, Nevada," you hissed without confirming or denying his accusation, reaching a hand behind your back so Natalia could tangle her fingers within yours. Squeezing into her palm, you reversed a bit, until you felt her knees hit hard against your back. "It has nothing to do with you; you know it's not yours." The second part made him flinch. 

"EVERYTHING has to do with me," He slammed his fist against his chest, a thud resounding from the empty space his heart should be. You shuddered, bending backwards over Natalia as he leaned in to hover precariously by your face. "I've taken care of you better than any other man would EVER want to, and not because I had to-" Your bravado was quickly fading. "You know that, niñita, you'd be fucking nothing without me; both of you." You were being too bold, too strong, so he aimed his frustration at little Natalia. "It's you, isn't it?" 

"No man will come near me because of you," You scowled, nearly suffocating poor Natalia as you continued trying to back away from angry Nevada while protecting her. "I'd be so much more if it weren't for you, Nevada," you charged harshly, your voice rising to meet the ferocity in his. He had pushed you too much, tore you down too often lately. You were angry with him, and he wouldn't get away with this; "We only need you because you MADE us dependent on you-" you pointed your own accusing finger at his glare, causing him to back off just a step, "like you do with everyone, because you are fucking NOTHING without people following you, you sadistic piece of shi-"

Before you could finish your bellowing, an interruption in the form of knuckles and rings made you see stars. Nevada had backhanded you for your transgression. Perhaps for more than just your words, you pondered during your fall- he hadn't hit you this hard before. Was it your behavior at dinner, your promiscuity with people he knew, or the fact that perhaps his hold on you wasn't as strong as you were becoming? 

The impact sent you flying over Natalia, causing you to fall off the sofa and onto the hardwood. Your necklace stabbed into your chest as it crashed with you, leaving indents of the diamonds imprinted above your breast. Your best friend howled, whimpering through her tears as she watched you tumble. "WHY WOULD YOU NOT TELL ME?” He shouted into your face as you teared up. You covered your nose with your own hand as you crawled urgently backwards to try and get away. You pulled your fingers away when you felt something wet, it was blood. Nevada and you both froze, unable to muster a word after the realization that he very likely broke your nose. 

You saw him flinch and recoil, finally, when he saw the crimson stream coming from your nostril and your eyes start to swell- he knew he'd been too harsh. "Oh shit," he mumbled with a slight hint of sincerity as he crouched down to try and get a better look at your face. He reached forward, and you yelped aloud, afraid of those hands even if he had intended comfort with this second touch. 

Trapped like a rat, your flight or fight kicked in. You bolted past as he lowered himself, sending him falling onto his ass as you scurried out the front door. This would be Natalia's problem now- you had definitely done and taken enough. 

Nevada came barreling down the stairs after you, shouting apologies and obscenities strung together like angry beatnik poetry. At one point, he had your shirt in his fists in a feeble attempt to stop you, inadvertently sending you careening into a wall in the stairwell. More bruises would form, you were sure. Once freed, you kept running; down the final flight, out the door, and soon you were headed into the street. 

He could be following you, but you doubted it. Nevada wouldn't break a sweat to come after you- not when he had men who could do it for him. Who would be harsher than he could. 

At first, you didn't know where you were going.  
Where could you go that he couldn't find you? 

Then, a thought sparked, and you mindlessly dialed the number you had memorized from hours of debating whether or not you'd actually call. Ringing taunted you as you refused to even glance over your shoulder. The monsters could stay in the dark; you didn't want to find them. 

A tired "Hello?" greeted you from the other end. Solace. Your tears came back, overwhelmed with the relief of his voice. “Hello?” 

"G-Gerald?" You asked lightly, trying to cover up the tremble in your speech. Perhaps it wasn't all too successful, considering how urgently he responded. 

" _Your Name_?" He knew it was you, the thought that he remembered your voice made you smile against the blood dripping on your lip. 

"Yea, yea, uh-" You hesitated, and he patiently waited for you to respond. "I uh... I need you. Or someone. Or something..." Your steps had slowed, so you could think. It sounded silly, you felt silly. 

You heard rustling from his end. "Where are you?" No questions as to why, or why him, but instead he was climbing out of bed. "How far are you? Are you okay?" 

"The gas station on Rural," you whimpered, sniffling as you ran your sleeve across your lip to try and clean some blood. 

"I'm comin'." 

\---

He found you at the prescribed meeting place, the trees near where you and Natalia had hid from her angry beau so long ago. Gerald ran to you, cupping your pretty face in his hands once he got you into the street light. He ran his thumbs along your cheek bones, disapproval evident in his face. However, he certainly didn't look surprised. 

"Who did it?" He asked gently, examining your bruised nose and bloody upper lip. He already knew, he could have guessed at least. His cell phone had been exploding lately; it was well known Nevada was not happy with him at this point. Not that he cared. 

"Nevada," you answered simply. There was nothing else to say, and he didn't ask you for any further explanations. Instead, he shrugged his jacket off of his lanky arms, and draped it over your shoulders. 

Gerald nodded knowingly, guiding you towards the car. "Let's get you cleaned up," he settled finally, opening the passenger door for you to get in. 

\--- 

His apartment felt like heaven. No cigar smoke, no rules or eggshells to walk on.  
His touch could have opened the pearly gates. Soft, gentle, careful hands.  
His voice was the song you never knew you needed. Quiet, easy to understand.

Gerald had you sit down on the edge of his bathtub, and he sat on the toilet seat. For the most part, it had been quiet. You were used to being advised or prompted to speak, so initiating the conversation didn’t seem to be on your to-dos. Like you had been at the club, you two were kneecaps to kneecaps, and he laid his left arm across your lap as his right dabbed delicately at your face with a wet rag. 

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked apathetically, leaving the option up to you. You didn't know what to think about that, having the choice. In fact, you hadn't even noticed that you hadn't told him yet. 

"He found Natalia's pregnancy test," you confessed, voice nasally and sour on your own ears. "She didn't want to claim it, and I didn't want to- shit" wincing, his rag had hit a sensitive spot, but his weight on your legs kept you from getting too far away. 

His glare narrowed, and he paused as you regained composure. "So you got hit for it?" He asked before going back to his attempts at collecting the blood and dirt from your face. 

"No, it was because I hadn't told him, or something," you tried to think, but it was hard, why exactly did he hit you? "It was a culmination of misdeeds," you concluded simply, and Gerald furrowed his brows at you. It sounded silly when it wasn’t easily accepted. 

Before you could catch your breath, it was knocked out of you with a simple question from your savior; "Do you love him?" He had stopped everything. Stopped keeping you still, stopped wiping at your skin. His eyes bore a hole in your soul, and you vibrantly shook your head to deny it. 

You sniffled, "Absolutely not." Tears came back for reasons you couldn't place. How often had you told Nevada you loved him, though? After lines, after drinks, as thanks? 

"Does he love you?" He didn't give your eyes time to dry, or you time to think. 

"Would he have done this if he did?" You asked softly, scoffing a bit at the suggestion. Nevada couldn't love anyone, save for his blood and himself. 

Your crying came back before you could stop it, shaking your shoulders, and Gerald boldly embraced you. He physically moved you, bringing you to sit on his left thigh instead of the porcelain. Upon confirmation of his earlier inquiries, he removed Nevada’s necklace from your throat- you felt lighter, better, yet oddly anxious as you watched him lay it atop your purse. He rocked with you, and let you weep into his shirt, as his hands remained gentlemen and ran tracks up and down your spine over your shirt. 

"You need to get some sleep," He eased you off his leg, so you were standing. It felt off not being abandoned to the floor. "I like the couch, you can have the bed;" he left you there alone as he gathered something for you to wear. 

Meanwhile, you noticed something flash out of the corner of your eye. Twisting, you saw his phone, screen indicating a call but no ringing coming from the speakers. He must have silenced it. Nosily, you peered at the cell after the call was left unanswered, and saw words that made the breath catch in your throat; 

' _12 missed calls from Nevada - 5 unread text messages_ ' 

You should have never asked about Gerald. 


	17. Chapter 17

Natalia had come over the next day, toting your clutch and a few changes of clothes in a large overnight bag you typically kept at her apartment. She looked a little nervous, had even been hiding under a large rimmed sun hat and a pair of sunglasses; as if Nevada’s men wouldn’t recognize her despite the disguise. “This place is swanky,” she complimented in a champagne-pop tone while taking a seat next to you on the leather sofa in the living room.

“Thanks,” Gerald chuckled at her choice of compliment, politely taking the bag from her so she wouldn’t have to carry the weight any further. “You need somethin? Water?” He knew, she assumed correctly, and she nodded at the offer.

“Yea, honey, water’s fine.” She lay her head against your shoulder, and you smiled and wrapped your arms around her. It felt so much better to have Natalia near. Even after releasing her from your hug, you kept a hand on her skirt, just so you could assure she wouldn’t go far. You two had barely spoke after the incident with your nose and Nevada’s knuckles, she didn’t want to know anything she’d have to keep secret. Thankfully she hit you up this morning, and was quick to meet you at your little sanctuary.

As Gerald left the room, Natalia’s attention turned fully to you. “What’s this boy do?” She asked nosily, eyes darting about at the presumably expensive art work and furniture.

“Criminal law,” you relayed smartly, wagging your head a bit at the fancy occupation. You two were used to smugglers and dealers, not the people they paid to keep them out of jail. It was the flip side of the coin- but a profitable one, both in means of money and blackmail. “He’s who they call when they get into trouble.”

“Ahhh,” Natalia clicked her tongue to show she approved, maybe even was impressed. After a few more moments, she gazed at your face, and carefully ran a fingertip down your bruised nose. Little black bags had started to form under your eyes, and her face tweaked as she studied your condition. “Baby, that’s prolly broke.”

“Yea, yea,” you agreed haphazardly, ignoring her concern and going at a little jewelry chest that contained some pot and papers. “Gerald said something about some minute clinic or some shit,” you shook your head- a doctor for a broken nose? You couldn’t afford that bill, and you didn’t want him to take care of it.

“Nah, you’ll be okay,” your friend left you alone with the medical concerns, leaning elbows on her knees so she could watch you roll your joint. “Nevada said he tried to call… have you talked to him?”

You shook your head, you hadn’t. “How did everything go after I left?” Tongue out, you licked along the gummy strip so you could secure the paper.

“Pretty well, actually,” she nodded, jumping a bit when Gerald came back and sat down the water in front of her. It always felt like he was sneaking around, she though. He sat on the other side of you, listening and waiting patiently for you to spark. “He was so pissed about you,” Natalia went on, giggling a bit as she recalled the evening, “that he was really nice to me once he came back up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Glad I can help,” you lit the joint and took a drag, before handing it off to Gerald. “What’d he say about baby?”

“He wants me to go to a ‘real’ doctor,” Natalia explained, absently running her fingers along her bloated belly. “Says I need, I dunno… pictures and stuff.”

“Ultrasounds,” Gerald corrected simply while exhaling. “They can see how big it is and shit. If it’s got all the arms and toes, you know?” He held his hands up, a small space left between, presumably to emphasise on exactly how small the baby should be by now.

“Does it have arms and toes yet?” You turned to him curiously; the boy was smart. It was like talking to a human Google search engine, if he didn’t know the answer he’d find it. Or at least bullshit well enough to make you think he had one.

Gerald shrugged, looking over you to Natalia. “How far along are you?”

A confused look came over her face, “Uh,” her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she tried to count, “I dunno a couple months?”

“Natalia,” you chastised, shaking your head as you took another drag. “You gotta at least know that.”

“I can’t afford a doctor, you know that,” she hissed back, hugging her slightly swollen stomach and reclining back in the sofa.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you put your arm across her legs, apologizing via touch. “But is Nevada gonna take you?”

She nodded, vibrantly so. “Oh yea he wants to go, he wants to know all about it,” Natalia smiled, happiness, finally. She had been so worried about admitting to this, she even had you fooled into thinking Nevada would be volatile at the news. You both should have known better. “He even thought about names with me. We like Nikolai, or Lillian…”

“What about the father?” Gerald’s eyebrow perked, and you both just gave him a blank stare in return.

“What about him?” Natalia asked coldly, which was apparently enough apathy to convince him to lay off the consideration. He shook his head, rising from the couch  and stretching his arms above his head.

“I’m gonna change, I gotta go to the office,” He explained briefly, laying a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. You placed your fingers atop his and nodded, showing you understood, and was listening. “You two stay as long as you like… just let me know if you leave, okay?” Again, you nodded, and he squeezed lightly before walking away.

Natalia watched him go, and whistled once he was safely on the other side of the bedroom door. “The office,” she repeated, wriggling in her seat teasingly. You two sat in silence for a short while before you finally put out the joint in a glass ashtray.

“Are you gonna talk to Nevada?” She asked finally, gently, while laying across your lap and placing her head on a pillow. Your left hand ran fingers through her long hair, and your right rubbed on her belly as if it were a magic lamp. There was life in there, it was entrancing, you thought you could feel it. “He’s sorry, you know.” She caught your stare, and tried to emphasis the sincerity. “Really sorry. He even got all sentimental about it.”

You shook your head, and she nodded solemnly from her spot below you. “I dunno, after the shit he said, I dunno what to say to him.” You confessed in a whisper. “And he’s been calling Gerald constantly, I don’t think it’d be fair.”

“He’s just worried about his niñita,” she smiled, and you teasingly swatted at her forehead to prove you disapproved. “But really, he didn’t know where you went. He feels awful. He’s worried.” Natalia shifted, turning on her side so her pregnant belly pressed against your own and she could hug your arm. “Can’t you just talk to him for me?” she begged, and you could feel her crybaby tears on your wrist. “I want you to come to the doctor with me. I’m scared, and he don’t know what they’re doing.”

Sighing, you moved so you both were lying across the sofa, and you wrapped her up in your arms. Your legs tangled, and you kissed her hair. Gerald’s peaceful home may be nice, but it felt empty without Natalia. Everything did. “If you want me to, I will.” You whispered, and felt the tears in your own eyes swell as well. She nodded against your chest, gripping your shirt in her fingers to prove urgency.

“I do, please.” Natalia was talking into your neck, and you nodded as she did. She didn’t need to beg you, she never did. You’d do anything for her, and she’d do the same for you. Even if it meant walking blocks while pregnant to get to an unfamiliar apartment while carrying clothes and makeup. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and talking to Nevada.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Gerald had come out of the bedroom, and was now standing behind the couch so he could hover over you two. Listening, as he always did. He worked on clipping cufflinks, and interrupted your coddling with one simple request; “He’s coming here, then.”

Natalia jumped, coiling tighter to you in surprise as she gazed up and saw him looking down. “Yea, yea that’s fine,” she accepted the compromise for her brother, and nodded rapidly to prove so. “He wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.”

“How about tomorrow, then? Maybe 9?” Gerald straightened his suit jacket, cocking his head to the side while waiting for her to respond. He was bossy, you had realized, but starkly different than Nevada. Gerald didn’t impose his will on anyone, so far he’d never so much as threatened you- he just brought up what he wanted to happen and you either agreed or disagreed. There was always an option in his decisions, the decision to opt out, but he had a way of making his way sound like the best way. Every time. And who were you to disagree?

“Do I get a say in this?” You asked, turning to lay on your back so you could face him directly while Natalia continued to cuddle into your side.

He shrugged, ignoring your look of bewilderment. “You already did,” Gerald grabbed a suitcase from a nearby chair, and crouched by the end of the sofa nearest to your face. “Dinner tonight? 7?”

You nodded obediently, and he leaned over the couch’s arm to place a polite kiss on your forehead before taking his leave.

You and Natalia napped until you had to leave for work.

—

Nine o clock, on the dot, there was a rapid knocking at the door. You and Gerald had gotten back to his apartment all of twenty minutes before he arrived; you had gone out for drinks at a nice little bar down the street. The kind of drinking hole where they had specialized cocktails you couldn’t pronounce the names of- French or some shit. You were dressed to the nines, a black midi dress and bright red lipstick that cost more than most in your collection, trying to look classier for his friends than you typically would if you were going out for drinking and dancing at the too-loud clubs. You and Gerald had been joking, recalling the evening and laughing with your legs over his lap and your head on a throw pillow, until the knocking started. Then you were left to sit alone.

Nevada boldly strode past Gerald after the door was opened for him, and eyed you from your position sitting on the couch. He wouldn’t admit it, but it felt good to see you. Your loose curls, the classy makeup, the modest little black dress. He crunched his nose to prove he disapproved. "You look like the girls you serve breakfast to,” He tried to start the conversation lightly, but you didn’t laugh and his face dropped quickly after. Gerald closed the door and took a seat on the other side of the room, unwilling to leave you alone, yet also hoping to put space between you two. It felt hollow.

“You gotta be here?” Nevada asked bluntly, glaring across the coffee table as Gerald reclined in his chair. He nodded, unflinchingly, and Nevada simply rolled his eyes. “You got a body guard now, niñita? You’d think you’d find someone…” He eyed the other man, running his tongue along the inside of his lip as he searched for the word he wanted to use- “bigger.”

“Stop it,” you demanded, scowling at him without otherwise moving. It was a triangle of tension, and you honestly weren’t even sure why you had agreed to this. You never would have if Natalia hadn’t begged you and if Gerald hadn’t insisted so. Closure, he had suggested. Hell, you had corrected.

Nevada nodded, face cast down but eyes lifting to watch you. Carefully, as he always did. “I wanted to apologize, your nose looks pretty shitty.” He squint, and cocked his head curiously to the side- “Where’s your necklace?” It was in your purse.

“Her nose looks so shitty because you fucking broke it,” Gerald intervened in a monotone voice, ignoring the second question, and Nevada stomped his foot in frustration. He hated being interrupted, and apparently he had grown too accustomed to you and Natalia letting him control the conversations. Having someone else guide it along annoyed him, and you could easily tell he was growing agitated. The catalyst almost seemed to be enjoying it.

“That’s why I’m apologizing,” he was leering across at Gerald, who remained oddly cool and collected. “I just didn’t expect,” Nevada was trying to tread lightly as he continued, rubbing his palms together as he carefully shifted through his vocabulary. “I didn’t expect you’d keep something like that from me.”

You nodded in understanding before finally speaking up; “Natalia knew you’d flip.”

“She needed to be getting medical attention,” Nevada had his eyes solely on you now, and was speaking slowly, logically; “She needed vitamins and good food-”

“I cooked her good food,” your chin was held up by your hands, and you were speaking through your fingers. Perhaps you had kept a secret from him, you were guilty of that- but you took damn good care of Natalia while she needed you and you would not let him steal that from you. “I bought her prenatals, she has two bottles of 'em in her bathroom.”

“You didn’t have to-” Nevada physically turned so he was directing his energy to you and only you. If he had his way, Gerald would disappear, so now he’d pretend he already had. “I would have paid for that shit, you know that.”

“She didn’t want you to know.” You spoke slowly, precisely. You didn’t understand why he didn’t 'get’ it. Your allegiance was always to Natalia if it came between those two, he knew that. This shouldn’t be a surprise. He was just offended, and didn’t want to admit it.

Nodding, and biting his tongue the best he could, Nevada ran his hands up and down the length of the arm of his chair. “You should have known better.”

“I think she’s made her reasoning clear,” The peanut gallery spoke again, without even shifting in his seat, and it outraged Nevada. You were thankful you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself again.

“Goddamnit, Gerry,” He insisted while slamming his fists on the arms of the chair. “Stay the fuck out of this, you fucking traitor; this is between us- everything’s been between us since she was a child.”

Now that he was brought into the conversation formally, Gerald gladly baited him on. “Maybe that’s why she’s so goddamn gun shy,” Finally, he leaned forward, eyes shooting daggers. “You act like she’s one of your fucking whores, Nevada, you don’t own her.” Was he smiling?

“I do not,” Nevada jumped to his feet, pointing a finger accusingly at the still seated Gerald while denying the charge against him. “I absolutely do not treat her like my girls,” The point went to you, “she’s been treated like a goddamn princess ever since she started clinging to Natalia-”

“Oh yea?” Gerald’s face showed his disbelief- he couldn’t fathom all the dysfunction that was involved in this relationship, one that wasn’t even fueled by volatile hearts in romance. “You broke her fucking nose, Nevada, what kind of royal treatment is that?” It was a fucked up family unit.

“AY!” Nevada bellowed, bringing his hands to the back of his neck as he started pacing. "The fuck do you care; you’re supposed to keep me out of jail, not play savior to get up her skirt.” He hated this, you could tell, it was painfully obvious. You almost felt bad for him, he couldn’t argue with someone as smart as Gerald. Nevada watched, Gerald listened; Nevada acted, Gerald demanded; Nevada flowed, Gerald insisted. They looked at the same situation through different colored glasses and were arguing over the shade of the issue.

“Stop, stop-” you raised your hands, demanding silence, and was surprised to receive it. This wasn’t a court room, you didn’t need an attorney interrupting the deposition. You didn’t need help. “Nevada, it’s all okay, I just want-”

“Okay?” Gerald’s jaw dropped as he leaned theatrically your direction. “Okay? It’s not OKAY, are you kidding me?” He was glaring at you now, and you shrugged, what else were you supposed to do? He wasn’t helping at this point.

“WHY IS HE HERE?!” Nevada motioned towards Gerald as if he were an alien walking among men, with disgust and utter confusion, obviously distressed at the interruptions that came as soon as you two began making progress. “We could have solved this shit forever ago-”

“It’s his goddamn apartment, Nevada,” You groaned, hiding your eyes behind your hands. You were getting a headache, these boys were driving you crazy. Back to Natalia. “Vada, I just want to go to the baby appointments.”

“As if I wouldn’t fucking let you,” he spat; “and don’t fucking call me that,” hands moved to his hips as he continued to pace. “It’s not like I wanted you to run away to mister tie and cuff links over here,” he motioned again to Gerald, who sighed as his patience started to ware thin.

“What was I supposed to do, Nevada?” You dramatically shrugged your shoulders, hands hanging in the air. “You knocked me on my ass, you hit me.“ Pointing to your crooked nose, he winced; "You hurt me Vada, you’d have fuckin killed anyone who did that to me.” He’d done god-knows-what to the boys who roughed up Natalia, you couldn’t imagine what he’d have done if anyone else had broken your nose.

“I’m not anyone,” he pointed to himself, while shaking his head. “And I said I was fucking sorry-”

“You’re nobody.” Gerald advised stiffly, and you thought Nevada would fly across the room to go at his throat. Awkward silence gripped the triangle, and you again covered your lips with your fingertips. This was appearing to be over soon, or so you hoped.

Nevada made a last bold move, and dropped to his knees in front of you, placing a hand on each of your thighs to force you to give him recognition. An ultimate act of contrition, a desperate attempt at redemption. “You need anything; you call me.” He twisted himself as you tried to look away, heaving his weight on your legs as he used you for leverage, so he was in front of your face. You couldn’t avoid his eyes if you wanted to. “Always, Niñita, you fuckin’ hear me? Always. Anything. You fucking call me.”

He rose to crouching, pressing his forehead against yours until he was hovering. Pressure; he pushed you backwards, until you were reclined beneath him. You could practically taste the cigar smoke on his lips, tears fell from your eyes; you were paralyzed under the heat of his touch. It was insanity; it was safe; it was Hell- Under the Pressure of Nevada. “I’ll be here so fast, pretty boy won’t know what hit him.” Still with his eyes on you, he pointed a finger across the room at your new support system, "And good ole’ Gerry better never fucking call me again.”

“This is done,” Gerald rose to standing, and made a few steps towards you two before Nevada leapt to his feet and raised hands in the air to signify surrender. What had taken him so long?  A cocky grin spread across Nevada’s face, though you could swear his lip was trembling, and he walked backwards until he reached the front door. He was having fun. This was a game. You were the pawn.

“Natalia’s got an appointment Thursday, ten AM.” He spoke so loudly, to both you and Gerald, but it broke you from your trance of tears. “We’re gonna see if I get a niece or nephew.” Hands lowered, and he placed them proudly upon his chest. “A lil’ baby is comin, I gotta take care of my sister now… Don’t you wanna come, Niñita?” Green eyes stayed on Gerald, despite your pet name’s usage.

“I’ll be there,” you managed while sniffling away the tears you couldn’t place a reason for. Again. “Where at?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he offered lightly, still beaming ear to ear with his creepy Cheshire smile.

Gerald shook his head sternly, easily speaking up against the suggestion. “I’ll take you.” Defiance- you loved it, yet at the same time you wanted to hush him. Every step forward with you and Nevada would be two leaps back as long as Gerald kept intervening. His concern was as pleasant as it was overwhelming.

“We’ll figure it out,” Nevada whisked himself away, slamming the door shut behind him after getting the final word in. Of course.

—

After Nevada left, you both sat in silence and didn’t dare to go near the other. Gerald was still standing, staring oddly at the door after it had shut. It took a good ten minutes before he finally felt the need to break the peace. “He loves you.” He mumbled loudly, and you shook your head harshly. Why was he so insistent on this love bullshit? Is this what rich boys thought about before falling asleep?

“No, he thinks he owns me,” you corrected, sighing.

Gerald nodded, standing up and maintaining his poker face. “I have some work to do, are you staying here tonight?” He wouldn’t argue with you, he knew there was no use. You’d proven to be too stubborn to bother disagreeing with.

“Do you mind?” You asked, in a whisper. You could go home, you had nothing to fear, but it was nice not being alone. Perhaps the animosity had been squashed, but you still didn’t want to go to Natalia’s- it was too iffy, and too likely, that Nevada would be headed there.

“No, not at all,” he shrugged, finally smirking a bit. “You’re cool to have around, you can stay as long as you want.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *kissy noises* Thank you all so much for the good wedding wishes!

You didn’t want to be alone. You missed Natalia, the night life, you were so lonely. You weren’t sure why, or what the ghosts of insomnia were whispering into your ears, but for some reason sleep couldn’t find you. Cautiously, you crawled out from the comfort of the bed you had been lying in, blindly groping into the darkness as you made your way to the living room. Luckily, Gerald had left the television on, some old movie in black and white illuminated the room.

You tip toed over to the sofa, and peeked over the back to see him; sleeping angelically. You smiled, he looked so handsome, cherub-like even. Clean cut and at least mostly sober, in a peaceful slumber. He was shirtless, the rest of him covered with a large black comforter he must have pulled out from somewhere. Always so prepared, so diligent.

“Gerald,” you whispered gingerly, even daring to reach out and brush some of his brunette hair from his eyes. He awoke with a start, bolting up to sitting in surprise at the touch he hadn’t been expecting. The sudden move made you stumble, and your back hit the coffee table as you lost your footing. You whined, bringing his eyes down to you on the floor.

“Woah, shit,” he mumbled once he realized it was only you, and he exhaled drastically while smiling your way. “What the fuck are you doin?” He asked, still whispering, even though there wasn’t anyone left to disturb in the apartment. “You scared me,” he reached for you, grabbing your wrists to pull you off your ass and back to crouching on your toes. “What’s wrong, what do you need?”

“I’m sorry,” you continued the whispering, and curled your fingers around his wrists so you both held the other. “Gerry, I’m lonely,” you whispered gently, beggingly, rocking forward until your elbows hit the cushions beside him. “Can’t you sleep in bed?”

His eyebrows rose, and he failed to keep that stoic face you had grown so used to. “Do you want me to?” He wanted confirmation, he was a gentleman, and for some reason- it drove you insane. You didn’t want to beg, you wanted comfort, but apparently you’d have to tell him exactly how to give that to you. He was treating you like a kicked puppy, and you knew you were more than that. But now, you just wanted comfort.

“Yes,” you nodded, rising to standing while still keeping a hold on his wrists. “Please?”

That was all it took. In seconds, Gerald was on his feet, and he took the initiative to lead you through the dark apartment after turning off the orchestrated background music of the TV. You coiled your arms around his waist, hugging yourself tightly to his back as he knowingly navigated the corridors. His arms lay over yours, until the bed was finally near, and he unlaced your latch on him so he could hip-bump you onto the mattress.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as if the darkness demanded hushed voices, and you waited blindly until he cupped your face in his hands. Lips; on your forehead, on your cheek, on the other- until you felt the weight of him alongside you as he crawled onto the bed.

“Thank you,” he advised simply, laying down and dragging you along with him until your back his his chest. You coddled close, until you felt his chin rest atop your head.

It was nice; so much nicer than mere minutes before, yet almost too nice. Way too nice. He smelled sweet, like fresh soap and cappuccino. It was easy to breathe, too easy. You thought that would help, having him accompany you within the sheets, but for some reason insomnia prevailed. You lay awake most of the evening, counting his breaths as he took them, clutching his hand to your chest.

\---

“Fuck,” you cursed as you heard your phone vibrating off the bedside table.

“I didn’t even do anything yet,” Annoyed by the interruption and your willingness to allow it to continue, sweet Gerald quickly climbed up over you, snatching your ringing cell from the floor and reading the cover. You already knew that ring tone, but the look he shot your way made it clear he was familiar with the number as well. He tauntingly shook it so you could see the name across the screen. Nevada.

“Gerry, no!” You tried to squirm yourself downwards, under him, so you could try and get the phone back. “It’s Nevada, I have to answer, it could be about the baby-” You were desperately trying to stay in the Ramirez’s good graces, and ignoring calls was not a way to do that.

Gerald scoffed at you, rolling his eyes while laying his head on your bare stomach. He boldly tapped at the screen, answering the call, and clicked it onto speaker phone. You froze in fear and shock, covering your mouth with both hands.

“ _Your Name_ ’s answering service,” he sang out in a high-pitched and vibrantly fake British accent. You could hear Nevada breathing on the other end, and a cold shiver fell down your spine. Quickly, you tried again to retrieve the phone, but Gerry slithered himself down between your legs, counteracting your attempts to reach his face. “She’s preoccupied at the moooment,” he made you gasp by holding the phone above your pubic bone, and he spoke into the speaker while resting his chin on his fist between your legs- his knuckles skimmed your exposed skin and his hot breath over your panties made you writhe. “But she’ll call back later, okay now, bye bye-” The phone was dropped immediately after, letting it fall under the bed as he eagerly attempted to continue.

“You can’t fuckin’ do that,” you whimpered, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him up so he had to look at your face instead of your crotch. “He’s gonna give me hell on Thursday, Gerald, aren’t you worried about what he’ll do?” Your eyes proved urgency, and his smile wilted momentarily. He boldly rolled his eyes to the ceiling, before pulling against your hold on his tresses so he could wrap himself around one of your legs. His jolly attitude didn’t fade for long.

Gerry laughed at you, his hair tickling the inside of your thigh as he shamelessly rest his cheek against your leg. “Oh, honey,” he peppered the skin he could reach with little kisses, sending fire up your spine. His curious fingers traveled back up, up your smooth skin until he pressed his thumb against your panties. The pressure made you jump and whine, he lit up in delight and rolled the fingertip in slow circles to watch you wriggle. “I’m not fuckin’ scared of Nevada Ramirez.”

Those words. You weren’t sure why, but it was better than his magic fingers working you into a tizzy and all the gold money could buy. Better than the high of any drugs or special treatment, the bump of the clubs, or the sound of bills hitting your palms. You audibly moaned, and again reached for him- but this time, it was to convince him to rise up and crawl back over you so you could thank him appropriately. Or, rather, inappropriately.

\---

Natalia had kicked you two out of the office when you started bickering. Well, she didn’t, but she told the nurse you guys were ‘stressing her out’; so you were escorted from the building and asked to wait outside by a German woman even Nevada didn’t want to argue with. The moment the nurse went back inside, he spat at your shoes, and you jumped to avoid the mess he caused.

He was being awful, and utterly annoying. Not even like he usually was, it wasn’t his typical anger where you had to flinch when he stepped your way. You weren’t scared, he didn’t want you to be scared- you were sick of his shit. He had brazenly flipped Gerald the bird when he dropped you off; he had shut the door on your heel and your dress when you first followed Natalia in to the clinic. Childish. Once in the waiting room, he had ignored every word you girls had said to him, choosing instead to pretend and read a children’s Highlights magazine until he found cartoons of rats and pointed them out before advising; “You, Niñita.” But it had been in the doctor’s office that the final call was made, when he insisted to the point of shouts and insanity that you would not be listed as Natalia’s emergency contact on her paperwork- because, apparently, you were an 'el traidor’.

“What do you want from me, Nevada?” You spread your arms out wide, leaving you vulnerable for any attack he hurled your way; be it fists or words. You’d almost rather he break your nose again if it meant he’d stop this pettiness. “I don’t know what you want from me when you don’t talk to me.” Tears came to your eyes, a few loiterers hurried their steps past so they wouldn't be involved; “I’ve never fucking known what you want from me, I just do what you say over, and over, and over-”

“Are you really that goddamn dense?” He snarled, advancing on you until his chest hit your own. You didn’t back down, you couldn’t at this point. Whatever was going on needed to be put to an end- you couldn’t deal with him if he was going to be like this, and you needed to be there for Natalia. “Are you really that fucking stupid, Niñita?”

You spat at him, as he had done earlier- “Don’t fucking call me that,” your saliva hit his shoulder and added a wet spot to his black tee shirt. His glare narrowed, and he continued walking forward despite your palms applying pressure to his chest. You couldn’t push him off of you, and instead, you were backed up against the external bricks of the doctor’s office. It knocked the air out of you for a moment. You were literally trapped between a rock and a hard place; Nevada and a wall.

“You think all the shit you did was worth what I got for you? What I’ve done for you?” He was speaking low, dangerously so, and it took all your concentration not to tremble. He’d have felt it; he’d probably have loved it. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Designer shoes for getting a bag of smack? Rides whenever you fucking call?”

“You only gave a shit about me because Natalia,” you again tried to shove him off of you, but it was more annoying than purposeful- he easily pinned both your wrists above you with one hand, saving himself from any more physical attacks. That wouldn’t stop your mouth. “Don’t you dare act like you’ve ever given a fuck about me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nevada was close; you thought it was getting harder to breathe. “You’re such a stupid, stupid little girl,” The words made your tears more intense, and he finally flinched when you began to sob. But it wasn’t enough to convince him to cease fire. “I’ve done soo much for you, ever since you were young, you think you’d have avoided all the strife everyone suffers around here if it weren’t for me? You think Gerald's gotten himself into this storm of shit because you're so fucking cute?” The low tone was rising, growing more feral. “You think the boys let you be because they want to? You think you never got hurt because you were invincible?" He prodded at your sternum with his free hand, making you whimper. "You think I didn’t have anything to do with you safely going out every goddamn night? You think I don't add value to your worth?”

“Let me go,” you begged, tugging at your arms and squirming to try and get out from under his pressure. The pressure of his hands, his chest, his mere existence; it was too much now. “Please let me go, Nevada.”

“NO,” He shouted, and you recoiled, praying to Gods you didn’t believe in for his restraint. “No, I’m fucking done with this shit,” his free hand went to your hip, and he pushed with the ball of his palm to force your lower half to remain still against the bricks. His knee went between your legs, leaving your skirt stuck between his jeans and the wall. Pinned, like a dead butterfly on display. “You are a spoiled rotten, whiny, incapable-”

“Please, Vada,” you cried, tears unable to be contained at this point. You hadn’t expected this to get this far, you were used to his verbal abuse- but this was more. He was angry, he was livid, and he was tearing your soul to pieces.

However, he was also unwavering. “Insatiable, unreliable, greedy,” each word drew him closer, until his forehead pressed hard against yours and the back of your head hit the bricks- you winced, dizzy. His cologne, his maturity, his attention, his power; it overwhelmed you, and you could barely even imagine the air around you as you were enveloped in Nevada. His being, just him. It was always just him.

“Stupid, loud, so fucking difficult-” his face changed, though you could only see his eyes at this point, and those green demons were staring directly into yours. He stopped speaking for just a moment, long enough for you to feel the breath stall in his throat. “You’re so goddamn difficult, Niñita,” Nevada whispered, yet you could easily hear him, he was so close.

“Please, Nevada-” as soon as you said his name, he was lost, and before you could even catch your breath to try and appeal to him more; his lips crashed hazardously onto yours, and an urgent, necessary kiss ensued. He pulled back, benevolently giving you the surprise chance to break off and run, but you didn’t- you didn’t want to. With your hands now free, you cupped his face in your palms, and he generously remained still as you tugged him back via his bottom lip with your teeth.

Taking your bite as the lead, Nevada eagerly backed you against the wall once more, and this time you willingly complied. Both strong hands went to your thighs, and he lifted you until your legs could wrap over his hips. His tongue wandered, begging for permission while tracing your top lip with the tip; and you allowed it- nicotine and the sour taste of bravado became one. His arm went to the small of your back, pressing your belly against his, and the other tangled in your tresses as the kiss intensified. Tongues, teeth, and exploration came from the insolence and emotions you two had been denying. Your arms coiled around his neck, both keeping your balance and refusing him the chance to separate, and you sighed longingly into his mouth as you started to lose your mind and yourself-

“Are you two fucking kidding me?” Pause; sense came pouring back into the both of you when the voice echoed against the alley walls. Your faces turned, one of your cheeks against the brick and the other against Nevada's, as you found the source of the sound- a bewildered Natalia holding a manilla folder with her head cocked theatrically to the side.

The hands around his neck shifted defensively, so you could push him roughly away by the shoulders, and he fumbled haplessly to untangle himself until you were accidentally dropped against the bricks and the ground. You winced, pain shooting up from your tailbone, and Nevada shocked you when he dropped to a knee to grab your wrists and help you back to your feet.

“What the Hell is going on?” Natalia whined, eyes wide as she watched him lead you back to her and the sidewalk by dragging you along with a firm grasp on your hand. “You two were just about to fuckin’ kill each other in there-”

“Don’t fucking worry about it,” Nevada hissed, and you beat him to her by running ahead. He still kept a firm hold on your hand from behind you as he took his time to catch up.

“So!?” You asked, beaming at her as she teasingly tilted the folder back and forth. Enjoying the little bit of power she had, Natalia very slowly opened the folder to show four ultrasound pictures stapled on the inside. You shook Nevada off of you, so you could snatch the paperwork from her and take a closer look.

Nearly dropping the folder, you covered your mouth with your right hand, and handed it off to Nevada with your left. The moment he took them from you, you embraced your sweet Natalia, and squealed with excitement as you two rocked side to side. Nervously, her brother opened the folder, and squint so he could see the contents and information inside.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled before smiling and looking up at you two. “A girl? A little baby girl?” Holding the contents high above his head and on display, he pounded his free fist into the air. “A NIECE! I’m going to be a fucking uncle to a sweet girl, she’s fucking beautiful, look at her!” He shoved the folder into your faces, pointing out the precious little curve of her forehead. Natalia nodded, eagerly, and hid her tears in your shoulder.

“She is!” you screeched, still holding Natalia’s shoulders with one arm as you reached back to take another look at the ultrasounds. “Natalia, she’s beautiful, you’re beautiful!” You kissed her cheek, and she jokingly pushed your face away with two fingers.

“Don’t touch me with those lips, I know where they’ve been, and I don’t want to catch whatever has you two so fucking loco.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Don’t.” You glowered at Nevada, who had chosen to sit in the back seat with you for the ride back to Gerald’s apartment. He was supposed to have been dropped off first, but he changed the plan. What else was new? 

“You don’t have to go back,” He tried to reason with you, tightening his grip on your thigh momentarily. “I can have someone get your shit.” Contrasting the beginning of the day, he was being soft with you now. Too soft. Ever since you two had kissed with your back against bricks and cement, Nevada had been trying his best to be sweet to you. It seemed off, fishy even. You figured he might be going through a dry spell, trying to get laid. 

“Don’t.” You sighed, dreamily watching as the buildings passed by outside the window. 

“Just stay with Natalia tonight,” Nevada was trying too hard. It made you feel like there was a trick around the corner, one you couldn’t see. “We haven’t seen you in days, we can catch up-”

Finally, as you saw the apartment complex come over the horizon, you let your truth come out; “I don’t know what the fuck you’re up to,” You were whispering, the dangerous tone he had used on you plenty of times before, or at least your best attempt at replicating it. “I don’t know why you’re playing with me like this,” you continued, glare stuck on Nevada despite the puppy-dog-eyes-trickery he was displaying. “I don’t want to find out, though.” 

Silence; and a blank stare followed from his side. “You’re such a bitch,” He finally mumbled, turning to look out the window instead of at your face. “A spoiled, fucking bitch.” 

“You’re just mad at Gerald,” you accused, proud of yourself for not letting him pull the tricks. “You want him to be upset so you’re fucking with me.” His jaw dropped when he turned back to you, and you could almost feel the burn from the fire in his eyes. “You’re using me just like you always do; but instead of robbing a lil’ boy or running an errand, you’re using me to piss off your goddamn attorney.” 

His angry eyes shifted, and you shivered when you saw the corners of his lips curving up into an amused smile. “I’M using you?" Surprise changed his tone of voice, "you think you’re that fucking important to him?” Nevada scoffed, apparently done with your attitude. He was cheesing now, “If I wanted to hurt Gerald, I’d hit his pocketbook, you’re nothing. You’re not the only girl he has on his fishing hook, Niñita.” He laughed, loudly, thoroughly enjoying your ignorance and how your confident smirk faded. “He wouldn’t care if I fucked you on his Welcome mat, he’d just want me to pay for a new one.” 

“Nevada, stop-” Natalia made an attempt to referee from the front seat, but she was only mocked with a dramatic ‘HA HA HA’ from Nevada. 

“Where was it you met Gerald, hmm? With ME at the pool hall?” He raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly as you were left with only one option- agreeance. He was right. “And where else did you see him, at the club, with ME?” His head tilted and you only glowered back, he knew these answers already. 

“Where are you going with this?” You asked stubbornly, despite how the car pulled to a stop in front of the apartment building Gerald’s place was in. The rhetorical questions were making you uncomfortable, and you weren’t even sure if you could honestly trust him. Was he trying to trick you? “Gerald’s not fuckin’ scared of you, you know." You added swiftly, "he told me.” 

The last bit, he didn’t like it. It was obvious by how he ran his tongue over his teeth. “Of course he isn’t,” Nevada started gruffly before shamelessly reaching across and flipping your hair over your shoulder. “He used to be,” he added smartly, nodding cynically as you leaned just out of his reach so he couldn’t repeat the action. “But now he has you. You’re more torturous than I could be…”

“He has me because he cares, and he’s a nice boy.” You straightened your spine, and proudly crossed your legs at the ankles. Classy, like your nice boy. Not like Nevada. “Now where are you going with this?” You repeated yourself, which you hated, but you wanted to know exactly where this was headed. 

“Gerald meets with his clients where his clients are, do you think I go to law firms when I need out of trouble?” Nevada chewed on his lip, grinning ear to ear at the mere fact that he got to you. If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have continued to ask. “How often does your sweet Gerald go ‘to the office’?” Air quotes, on either side of your face, so close his thumbs nearly skimmed your cheeks. Your stare narrowed, and you tried to mentally consider the statement: Gerald went to the office quite often. More often than not, actually. 

Nevada laughed again, boisterous enough it could have raised the dead. “Don’t be so goddamn naive, Niñita,” he tisked his tongue and shook his head while wagging a finger side to side at you, chastising you for falling for the trickery. “You’re smarter than that; are you suuuuuuuure there’s even an office? I’ve never seen a goddamn office.” He tapped thoughtfully at his cheek with his fingertip, before feigning a shocked look and pointing up as if the lightbulb atop his head had lighted- “Or are there just more niñitas,“ he crudely rocked his hips while performing a seated salsa, "dancing away with your Gerry?” 

“Fuck you, Nevada,” You tore yourself from the car, angrily slamming the door shut behind you. “You are a monster, you know that?” With space and vehicle between you, it was easy to be brave, and you took advantage. “Every time I find anything outside of your reach, you want to ruin it. Why do you want to fuck my life up so bad?” He brought out the worst in you; the strength that didn’t need to be seen, and the evil that most humans could suppress. 

He dove eagerly across the seat, until he was hanging nearly halfway out the car window, like an excited dog. You asked, he'd tell you. “Because you and I, we’re the same. He’s not like us, he’s not scared of me because he knows I won’t touch him as long as you’re on his goddamn coattails.” 

Nevada pointed at his chest, and Natalia urgently reached over the driver to try and roll up his window. “You are MY Niñita, he is using you to fuck with ME, he’s using you as a damn shield for his bullshit, shit over your head- and you are just fucking like me,” His point wagged daringly in your direction. “You’re smart- you’ll see through it soon enough. You'll fucking see.”

Nevada’s green eyes signed the dotted line of his prophecy, and for some odd and unknown reason, the truth of his statement almost settled your frazzled nerves, calmed your mind. Made sense. “Somos uno y el mismo, Niñita- nothing will fucking change that. Not you being a spoiled bitch and especially no thorn in my side who spends more time fucking on the dance floor than you do.” 

“Is there a problem?” Gerald came bounding out of the front door, his demanding voice shaking you from your trance. He must have been watching from his apartment, you assumed. You all had been in front of the building for a good amount of time now. Likely, he was trying to avoid the scene you were creating, didn’t want to disturb the neighbors. “You okay?” His gentle voice tethered you, brought you collapsing back to reality and off the high of Nevada’s rage. 

“Yea, yea, I’m fine.” You rest your forehead against his chest, and Gerald diligently wrapped his arms over your shoulders. Confusion twisted his features, you didn’t quite seem fine and Nevada hanging out the window like a rabid Rottweiler suggested otherwise as well. Fortunately for you, he had apparently missed most of the conversation. “Can we go inside now?” You asked gently, and he smiled his million dollar grin back at you while nodding. 

“Love you baby,” Natalia called, blowing you kisses from her seat before you pulled yourself away from Gerald so you could go to her. You hugged her through the window, placing pecks on her temple as a last moment of celebration. 

“I love you, Nat,” you insisted, and stepped on tip toes so you could place a hand on her stomach, “And I love YOUUU sweet Lillian!” Natalia squealed, rubbing your hand over the swell before finally letting you go so you could make your way back to the apartment. 

Nevada, in typical Nevada fashion, made loud kissy noises at you from his spot in the car. Your first instinct was to punch him- right in the goddamn nose, so you two could have matching bruises and welts to go with your pounding hearts and adrenaline rushes, but you refrained. Instead, you covered his face with your palm, and bounced off of him with a slight shove. Gerald’s eyebrow rose and you quickly scurried back to his side. 

“Keep trying to climb the ladder, Gerry, and you're gonna get knocked the fuck down.” Nevada hollered from his seat before the car wheeled away. 

“What is he talking about?” You asked Gerald, as he turned to lead you back into the apartment. You coiled yourself tighter to him, surprising him a bit, and shook your head in exhausted bewilderment. 

Your nice boy scoffed, but you could feel him tense up. “Who fucking knows?” 

\---

You and Gerald had gone out a few nights later, and you were definitely drunk at this point. So drunk that you two found yourselves stumbling up the stairs, until his liquid courage came through and he could find the bravado to corner you after the first flight. You giggled airily, and he bent at the waist to pepper your face with sweet kisses as you leaned against the banister and the wall. His hands skimmed your sides, but his lips finally pulled away from your cheek so he could whisper in your ear; “Come away with me." 

“What?” You asked, out of breath from the climb and now recovering from the air being knocked out of you at his surprise question. Gerald kissed tantalizingly at your neck, leaving little marks behind when he pinched your skin in his teeth. You whimpered, and squirmed between his hands. 

After you whined, he pulled away again. “Come to Cali with me,” He repeated with precision, moving a hand to cup your cheek and force you to look at him. “You can leave all this shit behind, _Your Name_ ," You tried to go back to your kisses, but he stood tall so you couldn't interrupt. "I’ll take care of you.” 

You wilted quick- leave Washington Heights? Where did this idea come from? “Ah, baby, we’ll talk about that later, we’re busy now,” You tried to entice him by wiggling your hips and pressing yourself against his chest. Gerald thwarted your con by placing his forehead to yours and refusing to play along. No fun. 

“No,” He ordered bluntly, shaking his head and wagging yours side to side with it. “No, we’re talking about this now; you need to come with me.” His lip trembled into a slight snarl, “I need you to come with me.” The words, they felt sweet when they hit your heart- but for some reason, it wasn't quite romantic when they fell in your ear. He sounded annoyed with you, desperate even. But why? 

“Why don’t you just stay?” Your eyes narrowed, why should you have to go? “I have to be here when Lilly comes, baby, and if Nevada found out I skipped town-"

His fist slammed into the wall about six inches from your face. You froze, having not experienced being afraid of him until now. Gerald looked enraged, and he was; “Nevada, Nevada, Nevada,” He mocked the name before spitting onto the hardwood at your feet. “You don’t need Nevada, you're not his little girl-" He definitely wasn't being sweet now, and his hands on your sides had started to grip instead of coddle. It was new, yet the feelings it elicited felt oddly familiar. "You don’t need his money, you don’t need his shit, and neither do I. I'm tired of being under his thumb and I'm finally nearly out from under it-”

His agitation was palpable, and slightly terrifying. “Gerry, shhhh,” You cooed reassuringly, trying to calm him down by cupping his sweet face in your hands. Forcing a smile on your own lips, you went to kiss at his throat, and you could feel him tense while he tried to resist you. “Baby, everyone needs Nevada around here, calm down-”

“That’s why we’re getting the Hell out of here.” He didn't even have to stop you; you ceased your amorous assault as soon as his voice failed to lighten. "And I can, we can, if you come with me." Did he really want to pick this fight, now? 

“I can’t.” You insisted, shaking your head as you pulled away from him. Who did he think he was, and why did he suddenly need you? "If you just have work to do out there, Baby, you know I'd wait for you-"

“Is it because of Nevada?” Really? Was he serious?

You indignantly shoved Gerry off of you, and he didn't force his way back on your skin. “No, not because of fuckin’ Nevada, fuck Nevada,” the name was starting to burn your tongue. “I can’t leave Nat and Lilly-”

Gerald raised his hands in the air, and you instinctively flinched thinking you should expect a slap to your cheek. Instead, his palms went to the back of his neck, and the anger fell from his face when he watched you prepare for a hit. He looked sad now, or was that the unfamiliar face of fear, and you couldn’t tell if he was crying or if it was just sweat from the climb up the stairs. “It’s not about Natalia and Lilly,” He accused, finally going as far as to point a finger in your face, “you don’t wanna leave Nevada. It's sick Stockholm Syndrome shit.” 

“This has nothing to do with him,” You reached for Gerald, and he graciously let you catch his hands in your own. With his fists tangled in your fingers, you felt a little more in control. "I just can't leave-"

“You think you need protection, but you don't have anything to worry about with him and you know it- you can do whatever the Hell you want but you won't do this for me.” Gerry was smirking now, but it wasn’t the same as all the smiles he gave you before. It was an angry grin, and you clutched tighter on him to control his hands. “You're stuck on his attention; you want the money, you want the shoes-”

"And what do you want, Gerry?" Your voice lowered, your scary whisper, and he actually sneered at you after you asked. Something was different about him, it felt as if he was cracking. "What are you getting from all of this? What are you running from?" 

He was silent, and he bit his lip hard enough that you thought he busted it. "I don't run, honey," Gerald slumped, moving closer to keep the conversation private despite the public space. "And I need you; I need you to come with me." 

"I can't go, Baby," at your final refusal, he angrily started up the stairs, leaving you bewildered and confused on the landing. 

“You may not want Nevada, but you ARE Nevada’s.” He spoke from above you, as he scaled the steps. "You mean too much to him, and you have him in the palm of your hand- you just don't know it." Gerald placed his hand over his heart; "I know it, though. I saved you from him, I took you into my home, and all I ask of you is this one damn thing." 

"Is that why you're being so nice to me?" You stomped your foot, now shouting at him once he reached the next floor's beginning. His backing off was annoying you, why wouldn't he just fight this argument out? "Because you want me to play housewife and follow you around? Keep Nevada off your back?" 

"He's been on my damn back ever since you started mentioning my name!" Gerald leaned over to spy at you, before dramatically motioning towards the steps in hopes you'd start climbing, start obeying. "And I don't want you as a housewife, you're just cool to have around. Now come inside or find some other sap's bed to sleep in so my phone can stop going off for at least an hour." 

Now you felt guilty, you almost would have preferred a slap instead of the bitter words. Begrudgingly, you ascended the stairs, and silently allowed him to guide you towards his door with a carefully placed hand between your shoulder blades. You thought you felt deja vu. "I'm thinking of you here, honey," He tried to come back to your good graces, draping his arms over your shoulders and snuggling you to his chest before he went to open the door. 

He felt overbearing; you didn't think you could breathe under his weight.  
You felt naked; you suddenly craved the heavy necklace you hadn’t been wearing lately. 

"I know, Baby," you stumbled over the threshold and caught a glimpse of you two in the mirror by the entry. The duo suddenly looked wrong, but oh how badly you wanted it to be right. "I know." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somos uno y el mismo // We are one and the same.


	20. Chapter 20

You purposely hadn’t chosen to comment on Nevada’s companion for the evening. 

She was stunning, notably so. Caramel skin that seemed to shine in the reflections of the disco lights, curves that you could only hope to earn when more years came your way. She wasn’t one of his girls, no; she wasn’t a girl at all. Marcella was a woman. A beautiful woman, a bold woman- she apparently liked to sit on his lap and to lean in when he spoke. It made him feel important, you knew it, and it made your stomach twist. You had seen her plenty before, she went out often and she wasn’t unfamiliar to the club scene. 

However, this was the first time Nevada had ever paid particular attention to her, that you'd noticed at least. In fact, he had seemed to find her shortly after you girls arrived, and she had initially appeared as surprised by his approval as you were. You assumed you had missed something, since you had been less active in their lives lately, but Natalia confirmed that she hadn't seen Marcella since the last time she was at the club. Maybe Nevada had a whole world that didn't involve you girls, it felt cheap, considering how he insistently infiltrated himself in yours. Must be nice. Or he had just found a hot date. 

Whether she was a new toy or not- He was showing her off, letting her flirt and flit about the VIP section while consistently referring to her as his ‘new lady’. He’d have her sit under his heavy arm as he ordered more shots, he’d slide his hand up her skirt when she handed one your way. It could be the fact that you were making purposeful attempts to ignore him, but it felt like no matter how you tried; he and his 'new lady’ were always in your line of sight. You needed more alcohol. 

Honestly, you hadn’t wanted to come, but Natalia had begged you until you broke down. You were bummed out, from her brother’s berating and the argument you and Gerald had fumbled through the other day. A couch and ice cream sounded like much more fun than the loud club, but at least it was somewhere you were recognized, familiar. Nevada was celebrating, some success of sorts, and had insisted that she be there. Vehemently so, which was a little odd, considering how he’d been implementing a curfew on her the last few weeks. Lots of his partners were coming, he wanted them to see why he was so preoccupied lately; her obviously growing belly. While you loved seeing your sweet Natalia, you did not feel like celebrating. Further, after the tiff with your nice boy, you were trying to be a good girl. Loyalty, to both Natalia and Gerald, kept you from the dance floor; boring. Since you couldn't dance, you would drink, and drink you certainly did. 

And so, you sat alongside your best friend, sipping quietly at your latest flute of champagne between swigs of vodka and staying alert for any necessary assistance; more water, a dual bathroom trip, fishing convenient-store snacks from your bag so Natalia wouldn’t get too hungry. Mostly, you were emotional support, and she appreciated you. You knew she did; by how she scoffed at her brother when he sneered your way, by how she introduced you to every gentleman who offered her congratulations and convinced them to buy you a drink, by how she refused to leave you alone unless you chose to wander off. 

“You look so beautiful, you’re glowing!” Marcella had wandered your way, walking expertly in her high heels and bending at the knees to crouch in front of your sweet friend. You stole a shot from a nearby table- you’d rather the liquor hit your stomach than bite your tongue. She shamelessly landed hands on Natalia’s stomach, rubbing away over her dress, and the expecting mother faked a grin. Natalia hated when people touched her stomach, particularly strangers. Nevada and you were the only ones she ever wanted touching her lately. You passed her the ginger ale and lime she had been nursing, so she could take a sip while maintaining careful composure. 

“Thank you, darling,” Natalia placed her free hand over Marcella’s, so she could try and control where those nosy fingers went. From the screwed look on her face, you could tell she was trying her damndest to be polite through the torture. Hormones had been getting the best of her lately, leaving her grumpy and testy. You didn’t mind much; in fact it was rather fun to watch. “Her name’s gonna be-”

“Lillian!” Marcella answered before she could relay it, Nevada must have told her. He had been bragging about "mi dulce sobrina" all night, waving arms in a frenzy to tired Natalia nearly every time. Both of you girls obviously flinched, and gave each other a look she must of missed while busy stroking along Natalia’s firm belly. You didn’t want to be there anymore, so you excused yourself and made your way to the sanctuary of the women’s room, but not before opening a bag of chocolate covered cranberries you had gotten- and handing them off to your dear friend. She kissed your cheek in thanks before waggling her fingers to confirm your dismissal. Princess Natalia. 

\--- 

“Oh hey Honey!” Marcella barged into the bathroom shortly after you had finally hidden yourself away, apparently excited to have seen you. In fact, she had been fishing you out, confirmed by the following commentary; “Honey, I wanna talk to you!” 

When did you become Honey? You looked up into the mirror, to see Marcella beaming at you from behind. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with someone wanting to become Mrs. Ramirez, there had been plenty before and they all seemed to be exactly the same. Between the shitball theory Nevada had laid on you after Natalia’s appointment and your recent argument with Gerald, you were at capacity in terms of dealing with people and their bullshit. 

"Nevada told me about you,” She placed her hands on your back, leaning precariously over you while giggling at your reflections in the mirror. “You’re so sweet for taking such good care of Natalia; you even have snacks in your purse. Qué dulce de tu parte.” While she pat your back in adoration, you winced. You didn’t need acknowledgment for being there for Natalia. You’d always be there. She hadn’t been there at all. “We should all get to know each other and talk about little ones, you know? You two are sooo young-” you bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to continue; “I’d already been pregnant by your age. What, you’re like 25, right?” You definitely didn’t have anything to say to that. 

Marcella politely accepted your silence, and you shifted so she could get closer to the sink. “And you know, I am sorry- I don’t want you girls to be worried,” she was fixing her lipstick, but the comment made your eyebrow rise. Worried about what? “I know how much Nevada means to you girls, and I don’t want you to think I wanna take him away from you, ya know? I won't keep him busy or nothin'.” She talked too much, you didn’t like it. Too much talk about frivolous matters and things she didn't know about. She didn’t make you nervous, and she certainly didn’t have you worried. “Maybe we can go for brunch sometime, eh? Just us ladies? Leave Nevada at home.” Not a fucking chance. That last shot of vodka finally switched off your censor. 

“You think you’re that important to him?” You asked rudely, taking her back a bit. She stopped working on her lipstick, and instead went to staring at you via her reflection. “Don’t worry, Honey, we don’t think you can take Nevada from us.” Leaning against the wall, you crossed your arms over your chest, and watched with amusement as she silently fumed. You could have left, but this was fun now. 

A few tense seconds passed before she finally came back to respond; “You’re a vulgar little girl, you know that? Insolent and ignorant.” Marcella violently tossed her lipstick tube into her cheap clutch. You idly fingered the imprinted design on your purple one, finding an interesting bit of comfort in comparing the material goods. “Nevada said you were a brat, but I wanted to give you a chance.” Brat? You were surprised he’d choose that word of all the others. Bitch you’d have fallen for, but brat? Part of you didn’t even believe her. 

“Oh yea?” You didn’t care what she thought or what shit Nevada talked, and was already working to make your leave. This was you checking out; you were done with everyone except for your Natalia and the almost-here Lillian. These people could all kick rocks. “You’re like forty, why are you in a club?“ Forty was a reach, but she was definitely closer to Nevada’s age than you were. Older than you, at least five years- made the joke fair game. Holding the door open with one leg out in the darkness of the club, you left your final bit of venom to sizzle after primping your tresses in the mirror; "Nevada, Natalia, and I; somos uno y el mismo.” You used the words still vibrating through your skull, involuntarily raising your chin as you did. “Nobody’s worried about you.” 

You left the bathroom, not giving her a chance to respond before you disappeared to sit by Natalia again. All of five minutes later, you saw her sulking her way back to Nevada, refusing to look your way. She held his face in her hands, turning his head so her mouth could funnel words directly into his ear. Maybe Marcella couldn’t see his eyes, but you certainly did, as they darted knowingly your direction. You obliged him, unashamed and well aware you were likely getting tattled on. Smartly, you tilted your drink his way as he caught your stare, to salute him with your glass. Immediately, the corners of his mouth turned up and he pulled his lips into his teeth, and then bit hard- you knew that look. He was trying to keep from laughing, while subtly wagging his head in disapproval and refusing to waver from your eyes. 

After Marcella released his face, he dutifully shook his head in stubborn denial of whatever she had expressed, and kissed at the lips she had just fixed while slipping his hands up from her knees. He stole a final moment to look your way while his mouth was stained red by hers, and you unabashedly shoved a finger into your throat to show how much he made you want to fucking puke. 

“Be good,” Natalia grumbled through giggles, taking the hand you had just used to make the gesture and placing it in her lap with her own fists. “Let them play," She whispered in your ear while hiding her lips behind her glass so Nevada couldn't see her commentary; "they have to be back at the nursing home before too late.” 

You laughed aloud, leaning over to kiss her cheek in gratitude. You loved talking shit with Natalia. 

\--- 

Natalia was ready to leave, finally. You had been ready since before you even got there. 

“Be safe!” Nevada cooed sweetly when she let him know, kissing Natalia on both her cheeks before you finally departed. "My driver's around back, just head that way." You didn’t bother saying goodbye, he was still being short with you and you didn’t want to let him have the satisfaction of making the moment awkward. Mostly, you didn't want to bother with Marcella again. You were too drunk and already running late compared to the timeline you had told Gerald. 

But, while trying to focus on walking in a straight line during your trip towards Nevada's men, you noticed something. Gerald's Mercedes, parked suspiciously and otherwise inconspicuously all of four yards from the Escalade. What was he doing here? You noticed movement inside while nosily peering into the fogged back windshield. 

“Hey, Nat, wait a sec-” without even letting her respond, you were already heading diligently towards the familiar car. She hollered after you, obviously confused, and click clacked at a slower pace while struggling to keep up. You told her not to wear those heels, her feet were swelling and she could barely find her balance when barefoot. You didn’t have time to wait for her, though, you were bee-lining towards the vehicle. 

You shamelessly rapped at the fogged driver's side window with your knuckle; he had said he had to work late at the office tonight, and you had told him you’d probably be back at his apartment by this time. It looks like Natalia’s extra hour of energy was a blessing to you, and damnation to him. Or vice versa. 

The car subtly moved, and the back of his shirt hit the window as he jerked up from his bent position. You squint, tapping repetitiously at the glass as it all became too clear. He moved, inadvertently wiping the condensation from the inside of the window, and you saw a little blonde with her ankles in the air in the passenger seat over his shoulder. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You smacked at the window with your palm, twice, before Gerald finally rolled it down a crack. The girl scurried, pulling a jacket or something into her lap as mister attorney began to twist through his mind to get an acquittal. Case law wouldn’t help him here, and his charm had worn off with his facade. 

“Baby,” Gerald started smoothly, before ducking away from your fingers as you tried to slap him through the crack of the car window. “Hey, _Your Name_ , chill out, calm down,” He hissed, like the snake he was, and you crudely spat at him through the opening since you couldn’t reach him. Flinching, he wiped your spit off his cheek. “You’re the one who doesn’t wanna move with me, chill the fuck out.” 

“You said you were working,” You were shouting, causing a scene, embarrassing him in front of his friends and people he did business with. Not only his friends, though, there were plenty of friends around here. Most of the patrons knew you, knew you were Natalia's friend, and knew you had Ramirez immunity for most things. Slowly, people were starting to surround the scene in a semicircle, but you didn’t care. Sometimes it was the only way to get anything done with these damn men- with outside eyes forcing action. “Who is this fucking slut?” 

Her jaw dropped, you wanted to rip it off her face. Stupid blonde whore. Gerald gawked at you, still refusing any access into the hot car. “You're fucking nuts, what’s it to you anyways?” He accused, pointing a finger at you through the slit in his fort. Coward. You clicked your teeth, insinuating you’d bite the damn thing off. 

“Get out.” You tugged at the handle, it was locked, and he shook his head while giving you a sarcastic grin that made your head dizzy. You were seeing red, you wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his pretty face. “Get out of the goddamn car, Gerald!” 

“Fuck you,” he responded, imitating your earlier assault and hocking a wad of spit out your way. You knew he was upset with you from earlier, but you hadn’t expected this. Not a little pretty thing with his head between her thighs, not in front of the club in his fancy fucking car, not like this. People knew you here, you had probably seen that slut before, they were probably laughing at you. You were embarrassed, the crowd was growing, and Natalia covered her mouth with her hands while keeping a safe distance. If she wasn't pregnant, she'd have probably been working on getting hold of the blonde- it was Gerry's friend's lucky day. 

Part of you was genuinely hurt, admittedly, but you had been around the Ramirez family too long. Gerald hurt you, but further, he played you for a fool. A damned fool. You had refrained from dancing, refused the rich men who bought you drinks, you had been a good girl- and he was lying about his whereabouts so he could play with a stupid whore just outside. Insistent on demanding his attention, you took a hold of your clutch with both hands and violently slammed it as hard as you could against his driver's side mirror. The glass shattered against the ground, the mirror itself was left dented, and a thin crack formed between where it connected to the car. Good quality clutch. His face fell in disbelief and an emotion you knew well, even if you had only seen a dash of it in him before- rage. 

Gerald threw the door open, while you were trying again to yank at the handle. The bad timing sent you falling and flailing, over your gaudy heels and into the street. Dirt stained the hem of your little green dress; blood decorated your palms as they skid across the rocks and the gravel, your knees scraped along the curb. You recoiled as he stomped his way out of the driver seat, coming your way to likely return the hit you had laid on his precious fucking Mercedes. 

You knew these men, they all had a dark side, and it looked like you had woken up his. Quickly, you looked for a solution to the situation you got yourself in. 

Which was when you found the 3 or 4 foot metal pipe laying by the light post. Fate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "mi dulce sobrina" // "my sweet niece."  
> Qué dulce de tu parte. // "How sweet of you."  
> somos uno y el mismo. // "We are one and the same."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I somehow managed to mess this up after posting it before the weekend, for some reason it went back a couple edits and ex-nayed a bunch of what I had originally posted, likely an operator error on my end since I had gone back to fix a translation. Thanks, Jo, for noticing and letting me know :*.
> 
> So yea, this is basically what I had had plus a bit more.

“Oh shit,” Nevada had arrived late and could barely see around the crowd, but did manage to catch a sight of the metal rod violently wrecking into the glass on the driver's side, “who is that? She got the window with one fuckin hit!” He laughed, trying to push his way to a good spot so he could get a better seat for the fun. Landing a hand on a body guard of his, and simultaneously applying pressure to try and hoist himself upwards, he spoke again; "If any lil honey does shit like that to my car, you beat her ass after the first window then sign her into a baseball league, you hear me?" He cackled, and a few people that recognized his voice shifted so he could get through. Nobody wanted to be in Nevada's way. Finally reaching a good view, he froze, and squint to get a better look at the assailant. Hefty pause, then a slow: “Wait…”

Goddamnit, that was a buzz kill. Nevada had been told there was a pretty girl going loco on a nice ride, he had come out to enjoy the hype and have some fun. How often do the girls around here really put on a show worth seeing? Not often, but he wanted to be a part of it. Maybe even rile the party more, spice things up a bit, play hero and have his men save the expensive car. “NIÑITA WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” The last thing he had expected would have been to find you going at a Mercedes with a pipe, and Gerald standing helpless all of six feet away. This, this was not fucking good.

You ignored him.  
You didn’t stop.

Instead, you shattered the passenger’s side window as you had the driver’s, and grunted your frustration into the night air. Your arms were getting sore, but rage and adrenaline gave you strength- fueled your fire. “ _YOUR NAME_ STOP!” Gerald ran at you, until you cocked your head towards the sudden movement and waved the pipe ominously in his direction when he was barely a yard away. You debated hitting him, you wanted to. You could have thrown it at him, but then it’d been in his hands. He may have made a fool out of you- but you weren’t a fool now. Not anymore.

Gerald paused, hands up and eyebrows rose, surprised. “Don’t fucking do it,” he warned when he saw the look in your eyes.

“Oh yea?” That was as good as a dare. You slammed the end of the pipe into the car door; twice, thrice, four times until the dents shone back at you, reflecting the street lights like an inverted disco ball. This was your party now. Another window littered the ground like a fallen chandelier, the crystals from the broken glass gleamed up at you from the blacktop. You crushed them under your heels.

“FUCKING STOP IT!” Gerald was angry, angrier than you had ever seen him before. Natalia was crying while being consoled by some girls you had met in the bathroom, you could barely make out your name through her wailing. Nevada was surveying the crowd and mumbling to his own men, trying to spot out Gerald's entourage so he could keep an eye on them. You were alone. 

Now what? The initial damage had been inflicted through blind rage, but now, as you realized that you were trapped in the predicament you caused- the gravity of the situation confronted you head on. Oh shit. Ohhh shit. Flight or fight, that familiar beast, was biting at your heels once again. Knowingly, you reached for the glovebox, now conveniently available through the wrecked window. Tucked inside behind little law dictionaries and cigarette packs was the pistol he loved. 'It's always loaded' he had said after turning left from the cute little Chinese place you loved. Was he telling the truth then, or was he lying like every other time he spoke?

By the way he jumped backwards and the crowd gasped when you aimed the pretty little pistol at his belly- you were inclined to think he had been truthful. Good boy. The game had just changed, and you swallowed sour spit when Gerald's face fell.

Hell was headed your way- you knew it, you’d asked for it the moment you first hit the hood. The body guards, Gerry's friends, they all wanted their chance at you. Nevada's men would have nearly killed a bitch for doing what you had done. The car was an insult, a mild offense; but aiming a loaded gun at someone of their standing was a suicide note. Gerry would kick you out of the apartment, might knock you around for the couple grand in damage you had left behind, make an example out of you so no crazy girl would pull this stunt again; what guy wouldn’t? 

Nevada told you so. He told you so, he told you so. He told you Gerald was using you to get to him. He told you there were other girls, how you were nothing like Gerry; how you were so much like him. 'Somos uno y el mismo.' Nevada was right.

You could feel the tension, the thugs not knowing how to handle the situation- Nevada’s lil niñita was going loco on High Roller Gerald; this wasn't how the men behind the scenes predicted this little feud to end. If you were anyone else, you’d have been taken down by now, maybe even shot, and your apparent insanity was starting to make your immunity fade quickly. The group was growing larger still and closing in; you were the central point of focus for most of the patrons at the club. The gates to Hell would lock behind you on your way down, it was too late- You might as well go out in style.

“You’re a goddamn fraud,” You bellowed, bending at the waist to pluck up a few stones after tucking the rod under your arm, and you threw them at Gerald as he made a second attempt to approach you. You were feral, furious, and mostly just fucking pissed- he made a fool out of you. “A fraud and a fucking coward!” He couldn’t get away with it.

“And you're nothing- you psycho, spoiled bitch,” He winced when the rocks hit his chest and backed off when the gun was raised again. A few men, younger ones like him, started to break from the crowd but he held a hand their way to keep them off. Not yet, not with his own gun on him. His generosity was noted, you weren't ignorant to your precarious position, and you dropped the rest of your stones while pointing the pistol at his pretty face from feet away. His berating continued: “You’re fucked in the head, I offered to get you away from all this shit," He placed his hands on his chest in admiration of his own benevolence- "but you’re fucking crazy!”

“YOU MADE ME THINK YOU WERE NICE,” You sounded foolish, you felt foolish. “You’re not nice, you’re just a sick bastard-” you wouldn't shoot, you didn't want to, you'd never even shot anyone before; but you were definitely making sure nobody came at you. 

The group was too large, too loud, men were shouting for Gerald to 'finish it’ or you to 'fuckin get him’ and women were shrieking 'go girl’ with other forms of feminine support. You couldn’t focus. It was too much, you could barely think, everyone was moving too fast and too soon. You were on edge; keeping a watchful eye on Gerald as you saw his anger rising, lest he try to come at you. He could beat you up and down this block and most of the men would probably cheer- you did look like a psycho bitch.

Nevada finally bolted out of the crowd when he noticed Gerald's men moving in, shoving his way through raucous voyeurs and proceeding unflinchingly towards the center of the chaos. He surprised you, you didn’t even realize it was him at first, and it made you jump when you noticed someone was headed your way. “NIÑITA, you need to calm the FUCK down,” he stood alongside Gerald so as not to intimidate you, not immediately at least- and raised his hands in a similar surrender. However, his green eyes were locked on your own, while Gerald was focused singularly on your weapon and his wrecked car.

Boldly, Nevada stepped forward, and you wagged your pipe dangerously in his direction while keeping the gun on Gerry. Was he going to rush you? Would he turn you over, break your nose again? If tensions between him and Gerald were really 'over your head' as he had explained before, giving you up would probably be a great step towards a solution. You had been a pawn since the beginning, and now you could be the prisoner-prize. You didn’t know if you could trust him. “Niñita,” he spoke gently, and still walked closer, the crowd had come to a standstill in response; the little lights of cell phones blended your peripherals. “You need to put the pipe down.” He knew what was coming. "And give me the fucking gun, Niñita." There were men who would gladly take the damned thing and use it on you; those wolves would leap if Gerald made the call. Nevada didn’t want that to happen. Or did he want to be the one to do it, close their fight off and return to profitable business as usual?

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!” You bellowed painfully, stomping your left foot against the ground and the end of the pipe into the tail light closest to you. You were losing it; you were functioning on adrenaline, anger, alcohol. All sense was out the door. “I’ll fucking hit you, Vada, I'll shoot ya!” You threatened as he continued careful steps towards you; it was empty, but it was enough to make even Gerald go backwards. Red light, green light- and he was utilizing the yellow reverse of caution while Nevada challenged the red. The red on the ground, on your knees, on your hands, the red in your eyes. 

Nevada laughed, he fucking laughed at you; “Do it,” he taunted jocularly, smiling even as he said it, trying to calm you down with his smart humor. You wouldn’t do it. Gerald though, you’d hit Gerald, Nevada knew you would- but you wouldn’t hurt him. He hadn’t done anything, yet. He’d deliver it back tenfold with his own hands, it wouldn’t be worth your satisfaction. “You need to trust me here, you know better.”

“You were right,” it was all you could muster, and your shoulders shook with your sudden onslaught of tears as your knuckles turned white from your grip on the raised weapons. “Vada, you were right.”

Nevada nodded slowly, still making his way carefully towards you while doing so. Green light, green eyes. “I’m always right,” he explained bluntly, and pointed directly at the silver pipe. “Drop it, honey,” he instructed in a hush, trying to pull you back to reality. “You did a good number on that fuckin’ car; now give me the goddamn gun." He could see the fear in your eyes. "You're over your head, honey.”

“You were right,” you repeated forlornly, and in that moment, you flinched. Nevada took full advantage, running to clear the last few feet before lunging for you. You howled as the force of his impact nearly knocked you off your feet. The pipe tumbled onto the ground; the gun was stolen from your loose fingers and shoved into his pants. You didn’t resist him. Nevada hugged you tightly to his chest once you were disarmed, hiding you. He could have taken the weaponry and left you for the mercy of Gerald’s friends and the cement, buying himself brownie points; but he didn’t. You had signed your own death warrant, or at least put yourself in queue for a damn good ass beating. You weren't sure what was coming your way. Nobody would touch you if you were in Nevada’s arms, though- and he wouldn’t let anyone even fucking think about it. Not tonight.

“Shhh,” He was out of breath, or finally breathing again, you couldn’t tell. All you did know was that you both were trembling and he was petting your hair as you dug your nails into his shirt and skin. Nevada didn’t stop you, he didn’t smack at you like you expected, and he didn’t berate you for being the fool he knew you were. “Quiet, Niñita, shhh-” Instead, he coddled you, and you bent with him as he went to pick up the pipe you had been wielding before the others could get to it. Once it was in his grasp, he took mere seconds of deliberation, and threw the metal like a spear so the back windshield of the Mercedes fragmented. You yelped when you heard the crash, and he jumped as you clung tighter to his side. Blood was on his shirt now, either from your palms or from your nails scratching his skin. He didn’t seem to mind, at least he didn't remark on it.

Nevada pulled you along with him, being as patient as you’ve ever seen him while you sobbed and tripped over your own shoes. It was hard to walk in those stilettos while clutched so tightly to him, and he winced when you accidentally got his foot under the heel. “Ditch them,” he advised out of frustration, tired of having to deal with your stumbling. “I’ll get you new ones, fucking ditch them,” he was speaking into your hair, and you obeyed mindlessly, kicking off the shoes and leaving them behind. Glass dug into your bare soles, and you whined, whimpering aloud as you limped. You felt small, so little and small, insignificant and stupid. Nevada mumbled a profanity and a stern, “You’re fucking awful, you know that?” before finally lifting you, wrapping an arm under your ass and around the small of your back so you wouldn’t fall- you coiled your legs tightly over his hips and your arms around his neck. You hid your face between his shoulder and chest, nose pressed into the soft of his throat while inhaling to try and absorb his bravado and power. You needed it. You were thankful; thankful for his protection, thankful for him carrying you the twelve feet to your ride. Thankful for Nevada.

“Show’s over, you fuckers, go away,” He advised the crowd, which dispersed quickly after the excitement had ceased and sirens sang in the distance. On purpose, he bumped your back into Gerald, and spat at his shoes as he toted you along. “Bill me,” he suggested with a chuckle, then began to turn towards the upcoming Escalade. 

He was stopped, however, when Gerry placed a heavy hand on your shoulder- it felt as if an iron had been laid on your skin. Nevada grunted, spinning you so he could put himself in the middle and his fingers fell from you. A stare down ensued, both men leering dangerously at the other. "The gun," Gerald finally requested in a low growl.

Nevada laughed; you wondered if he was nervous as you felt the air catch in his chest. He teasingly leaned his hip you weren't on towards Gerald, the grip of the pistol was lazily hanging out of his pocket. "Can you get it, Gerry? My hands are a little ocupado," He bounced you while beaming a devilish smirk, both to prove his point and hitch you higher on him so you wouldn't slip any further. You could only assume Gerald retrieved the pistol, you refused to look his way, but you were swiftly whisked away as Nevada closed the gap between you three and his car. Gerald's entourage parted for him like the red sea.

“Nevada, I’m sorry,” you whispered into his skin, and your tears fell down the back of his neck. He ignored it, depositing you promptly into his car and holding the door open for Natalia to dive in the backseat and join you. She wrapped her arms around you, hugging your wet face to her chest as the door shut behind her. You sobbed, and she combed her fingers through your hair, whispering assurances and lullabies into your ear while kissing the top of your head. Even more gracious now than before, you held her close, and thanked all the Gods you could think of for the Ramirezs.

“My place,” Nevada instructed the driver before flitting his wrists to dismiss him. He knew better than to send you home, or to Natalia's. You were wanted now, and he needed to know exactly how much trouble you had gotten yourself in. He pointed through the window at his sister, who was eagerly watching for him, and whispered further rules: "You sleep in my bed, put her in the guest room." Even if anyone did get brave enough to go to his apartment looking for you, they wouldn't dare go in his room. Natalia and Lillian took precedence, you'd prefer it that way too, even while drunk and in danger.

Natalia nodded to show she understood then brushed your hair from your face, and you frowned up at her plump pout. “I’m sorry, Nat,” you started softly, only to feel her belly rumble by your head. She was trying to hide it but she couldn’t, a hearty roar of laughter, and she grabbed your wrists so she could look at your bloody palms.

“You’re so fucking crazy,” she giggled, kissing the backs of your hands before dropping your wrists across your chest. “I’m proud of you, fuck that guy.”

\---

"Nevada!" Marcella called for him as the crowd dispersed, and her heels announced her arrival. He was distracted, staring at the Escalade as it drove off, but he turned to look over his shoulder at the sound of his name. Oh yeah. Her.

Unmoved, he let her clatter the rest of the way towards him, until she giggled and wrapped herself around his left arm. "Is everything okay? Did you send the girls home?" She asked while dreamily leaning her head against his shoulder. Nevada perked an eyebrow at the affection. Her usefulness had expired the moment you left the club. Now, now she was just another woman trying to get her name on his tongue and her fingers in his wallet.

"Yea, they're fine." He didn't necessarily want to be rude, was actually hoping she'd just lose interest and go away. Women did that a lot, he noticed. They wandered; between wants, men, and other desires. Maybe she'd do it too.

"That girl is fucking loco," Marcella advised lightly. Suddenly, Nevada noticed how bitter her cheap perfume smelt, recalled how chalky her lipstick had tasted. His nose crunched, and he scowled at her.

"You don't even know her." He grumped, shrugging her off his arm by pretending to fiddle with his jacket. His date for the evening recoiled, and crossed her arms over her chest to protect herself from the chill of the night air. Typically, he'd have offered a lady his jacket if she was shivering, but he didn't want to. She wasn't who he was thinking about, and he didn't want her to stick around.

"Well yea," she conceded, staring down at her shoes for a moment. "But she is crazy, she smashed the shit out of that nice car and was gonna fuckin shoot Gerald-"

"Don't worry about it." Nevada started walking, annoyed, and headed back to the entrance for the club. He hadn't waited for her, but she followed along anyway. "And don't start saying shit like that, she wasn't gonna shoot him." He didn't want that to be the public take on your temper tantrum, but apparently that wouldn't be up to him. You went crazy, not homicidal.

"And she was rude as Hell in the bathroom." Marcella was only trying to make conversation, but she didn't know the delicate ground she was treading on. It was dangerous territory, and she wasn't being careful. "She just needs to grow up, though, maybe she'll stop being such a perra loca once she gets a lil' older-"

He spun on his heel, surprising her, and she accidentally stumbled into his chest since she hadn't known they were done walking. Those green eyes that had been flirting with her all night were narrowed to slits. It scared her. He didn't like that, apparently. "Don't fucking talk about her." Nevada instructed sternly, pointing a finger at her lips while trying to control himself. There was enough wrong in the air after your outburst, he couldn't afford any more trouble tonight.

"I'm sorry," she apologized promptly, and tried to reach for the hand that he held in front of her. Nevada grunted, shaking her off of his fingers, and then going straight to his cell phone. He sent a quick text before leering over at Marcella again.

"I need to get home," he advised, since she was still standing in front of him like a bell boy waiting for a tip. "You should go."

Her eyes lit up, "With you?"

Nevada chuckled in her face, and she wilted. "Hell no," he gave her an incredulous look, and waved at the large man who had come out of the back door upon receiving his cellular summons. He needed to get home; he needed to know you and Natalia made it safe. Especially Natalia, but particularly you.

That night, he could have gotten into some good graces, made some necessary friends. You really provided a great opportunity. Turning you over would have been an easy fix considering how prideful and greedy Gerald really was. 

The young buck had been giving out confidential information about Nevada, to men who were willing to pay a lot of money to know exactly where his business was going and where his wealth hid. Gerald had eagerly obliged them, naive and blinded by the promises of power and rewards. This, this was why he didn't like trusting people- Nevada had liked Gerald. He really did. In fact, he hadn't even been all too upset when he watched the boy wander out after you left the bar of the pool hall. It had been a few days later when someone finally squealed on him; Gerry was a lot better at making friends than keeping them, obviously.

When he found out, Nevada was at a loss. He couldn't just take him out, torture him; you were there. If he took Gerald down, there was a good chance you'd have either gotten caught in the cross fire or your little beau's friends would have just spun the game to you.

Honestly, you were really complicating shit for him lately, and the most frustrating part was how you seemed to have no idea. First, Nevada assumed you just didn't care, but it didn't take him long to realize exactly how insignificant you really thought you were. Unfortunately for you, you were very significant, especially to him- and everyone knew it, but you. He was always cleaning up your messes lately, not that he'd ever stop. He wouldn't let anything happen to you if he could stop it; you were too dear to him. You'd always been.

Nevada had known the boy lied to you about going to the office because he and his sister had been on her couch; Natalia was talking away at you on her cell phone about how busy boys were good boys, and he had been pretending to look for something to watch while drinking whiskey. He knew Gerald was at the club the whole time- he had gotten there before Nevada left. Natalia hadn't known why he insisted on getting blackout drunk that night, but that was why. It was one thing to suspect Gerald was fucking him over; it was a whole different thing to learn he was messing with your head. Oh, and when the poor squealer had revealed why you were involved...

_“Everything?" Nevada asked gently, alone in a corner booth with a younger boy who must just have reached 30 years._

_The boy nodded solemnly, hoping to keep immunity in his corner by confessing all the misdeeds, not just some. "Yea, everything. He just handed over all the files, had a little pretty thing at my office copy every last page.”_

_Nevada put out his cigar, lip curling into a snarl as he mentally tried to recount exactly what all he had told Gerald while they were working together._

_“Oh and the girl;" The squealer was really trying, trying to throw Gerald as far under the bus as he could so he himself could stay just ahead of it. "He thinks the girl will protect him." He realized he had Nevada's attention again, and was eager to provide further clarification. "I told him he was crazy, that she's just your little sister's friend. He says, you hear this- he says you won't lay a finger on him as long as he has his fingers in her..."_

_Involuntarily, like an ignited reflex, Nevada's eyes went wide and he backhanded his liquor glass off the table. Knuckles went from white to red as he flexed his fist- He didn't want to hear shit like that. The cup went careening across and crashed against the opposite wall with a sick splat and a crack that resounded as if it were the only sound in the room. For a few moments, it was, and the boy he was discussing things with went pale and silent. "Don't ever fucking say shit like that, not about her." Nevada advised, glaring on and flaring his nostrils as he desperately tried holding his composure. "Now get the fuck out of here."_

_He was brought another drink while his squealer ran out of the bar._

But now- Gerald had friends that didn't care about Nevada or that you were his Niñita. Gerald had friends who owed him favors, who would gladly make it so you regretted the tantrum you had thrown, who would probably do a lot more than make you regret it if Gerry really wanted them to. It was interesting really, there's been plenty of hits on Nevada and he hadn't shed a bead of sweat for it- fuck them.

Now, though, the hit wasn't on him. They were coming for you. And it made his blood run cold despite his evil heart. "Later, mami," he left Marcella standing cold and confused, glowering after him as he walked side by side with the larger man. They were going back to Nevada's, he didn't need to say it, but he did need to get there quick.

If Nevada had his way; you wouldn't be out of his reach. Not any time soon, at least. Good job, Niñita. "Fucking Niñita, right?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perspective is fun, eh?

Nevada got in late, and had asked the bodyguard to stay over as well. He would sleep on the couch, they had decided, so the door was in plain sight. Easy enough. Honestly, he didn't expect anything to happen tonight. It would be rushed, expected. Back when he was inclined to give the boy credit, he'd had said Gerald was too smart for that. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

First, he checked his own room, and smiled to see Natalia asleep. He loved her. They had two other sisters as well, and of course he loved each of them, but Natalia was just like him. Dangerously so. Brave, suave, charismatic- she could woo a room and bring men to their knees since she was a teen. He taught her everything he knew, spent countless hours in her company; it wouldn't be a push to call her one of his best friends. He closed the door, so she could sleep peacefully, and then continued his checking to the guest room. 

Then, there was you. Nevada was careful when opening the door, hoping not to wake you up just to soothe his curiosity. He didn't, you were sound asleep and lounged lazily under cool black sheets. Squinting, he could tell even in the dark that you had changed out of the sequined green junk and into one of his shirts. Good, those excuses for dresses you girls wore were awful. Chewing on the inside of his cheek as he watched you, he quickly came to an executive decision, and went to work removing his watch and rings. The gold was left on a nightstand, alongside the necklace you had finally fished out of your purse on the way back to his apartment. Gingerly, he ran a fingertip along the delicate chain, and fingered the heavy pendant. He raised the jewelry to his lips, kissing the cool metal the same way he had upon initial receipt, and then delicately lay it back with his own jewelry. 

Nevada had been in the darkened room long enough for his eyes to adjust, and he took advantage by glancing over your form again. What was it that kept him from ridding himself of you and the problems you brought with you? He couldn't even pinpoint when you first came into his life, he just recalled Natalia infiltrating you into their family until you were a permanent member. 

Ever since you were young and in elementary school, stumbling through the sidewalks and jumping over the cracks while chasing Natalia, he had been there to pick you up whenever you fell. When the neighborhood boys made fun of you for throwing like a girl back when you wanted to play ball with them in the corner lot, he had made every damn baseball on the block disappear- you had found them a week later and yelled at him for ruining the fun. In middle school, when the girls told you that you were plain and lame, Nevada had stayed up for hours assuring you of how they were jealous little putas and you were the most magnificent niñita he knew. You were, after all. When you were left dateless while helping his sisters get ready for the dance he ended up taking you to, he had found the boy a few days later and pummeled him for every tear you shed. He still had the photo from that night in his cigar box, you both cheesing like idiots and he looking excessively out of place among the younger students. 

Then you got older, as did he, and the struggles changed. Instead of skinned knees and sad eyes, he was dealing with you busting your knuckles on girl's faces and boys who chased you down until they got a chance in your skirt. Nevada hated those boys. All of them, in his opinion you'd never found a good one. Not one he could approve of, trust to take care of you like he could; like he always had. He'd roughed up a few and got it worse than he could deliver from even fewer- but he'd take the beatings and he'd do it again, and again, until you got a name for yourself. His name. Anyone who knew you and Nevada's odd entanglement knew not to break your heart unless they wanted a break in return. 

Apparently, from the show you put on tonight, he had taught you well. To Nevada, you were immaculate, and you had no reason to deal with any stupid boys playing with your heart. Your feral ways of revenge could be modified, but he was proud of you- proud you wouldn't let stupid Gerald make you look so stupid. It had a pang of sadness, though, despite his reverence- what if you didn't need him anymore? 

No more helping drunk-you up the stairs just to trip over his own shoes when you'd try and push him off of you. No more threatening boys that he knew were bad news, just to have you howling at him about ruining every ugly relationship you fell into. No more waiting until you fell asleep in tears to go find whoever caused them in the first place, just to have you wake up the next morning angry with him for intervening. He's been through your anger, your fists, your harsh words, and your silent treatments; they all stung more than any hits he's taken. 

You were grown now. You went from pigtails and plaid skirts to short tube dresses and painted lips. From being an annoying, pretty pain in his side to the rose he couldn't reach through the thorns he had meticulously grown around you. Much like your initial arrival in his life- Nevada couldn't really place the moment when you went from being practically another little sister to a woman. Like, a real woman. It had to have happened overnight, or maybe it was under the disco lights, perhaps it happened after a line of blow. The 'Niñita' served as a reminder as much as it did a pet name, you'd always be his little girl. You had to be, you couldn't be anything else, and you wouldn't need him anymore if you weren't his niñita. Nevada needed you to need him as much as you needed him. 

Likely, there'd be no trouble tonight. If there was, they would have to get through the body guard on the couch. If they managed that, they'd easily assume Nevada would be in his own room, and nobody would want to wake that beast. Even if they killed him, the repercussions wouldn't be worth it in the end. They'd avoid it. Which left their final destination obvious. The guest room. 

But you wouldn't be alone, not tonight. You wouldn't be a sitting duck because of your temper tantrum at the club or the silent death threat you had laid on Gerald by aiming the pistol at him. Oh no, they'd have to get through Nevada in order to get to you. There was no other way. 

And he wouldn't let them. Nevada shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, onto the floor, then sat at the foot of the bed to go to work on unlacing his shoes. He was sleeping with you tonight, because nobody would touch you if you were with him. He knew it. He'd use it. 

\---

You felt the bed shift, and initially you assumed it was Natalia. Ready to chastise her for not thinking properly, you lazily reached towards the pressure on the foot of the bed without even opening your eyes. You had expected to feel her thigh, or the hem of her nightgown- but instead you were surprised to find leather meeting your fingertips. Curiously, you peered down, and noticed someone garbed in black sitting on the end of the bed. 

Fear spiked, your skin went cold. You bolted up in the sheets, and tried to dive away from the unknown figure. It reached for you, and you yelped. Was it a specter, trap, a trick? Did they actually break into Nevada's apartment to come after you? Before you could put any space between you and the mystery, a large arm came over you, hooking into your waist. That was definitely not Natalia. A hand curled quickly over your mouth, efficiently silencing you before you had even thought of screaming for help. 

“Hush," the whisper paralyzed you, hot fear drawing down your spine. "You’ll wake Natalia,” the familiar voice poured over you, and you rolled your eyes while grunting in distinct disapproval. Nevada. Apparently he had chosen to join you in the guest room. You tried to struggle again, now much more annoyed than frightened, but he didn’t let you go. Your palms hurt from gripping at the sheets, blood left behind where you tried to tug away. 

“Goddamnit, calm the fuck down,” Nevada easily drug you back to the end of the bed where you had been lying, trying to shove you down towards the pillows. “You’re such fucking trouble, stop going loco on me for one second," he pointed a finger at your face while keeping your mouth covered with his other hand. "You’d think you’d had enough crazy for one night.” He grumbled, trying to forcefully tuck you in under the edges of the comforter. Was he trying to be nice? You squint suspiciously from your spot pinned under his palm. 

Smartly, you bit at the soft skin on his hand, managing a minor pinch. Nevada hissed, then lightly tapped at your mouth for the transgression, just light enough to show he purposely restrained himself. He tasted like metal and ash. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You tried again to get out from the blankets- he could have at least asked. "Get out,” you pointed at the door and he laughed at you, for thinking you had any authority over where he slept in his own apartment. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping with your newww laadyyy anyway, that old broad?” 

“Shut up,” He groaned, not even justifying your question with an answer while forcing you to stay down with a heavy arm over your chest. “Stop being jealous," he interrupted himself with a laugh, "just shut the fuck up and go to sleep.” He roughly yanked at you, pulling you against his chest despite your protests. It wasn’t sweet or sensual- you may not know what he wanted, but you knew he’d make it happen. However, though you had been protesting, there was something safe about this; his chin rest atop your head and his arms encircled you. It felt better than being alone, but you couldn’t let him know that. 

His jeans pinched at the back of your thighs, and his buckle was cold against your spine. You finally protested, "Take your belt off, you animal." 

"No, Niñita," he groaned with feigned annoyance, then chuckled while facetiously rocking his hips to a tune in his head; "No dancing with Trujillo tonight." You elbowed him for his misunderstanding, and the lewd dance. He gasped for air. 

"Nevada, fuck you- it's uncomfortable," you whined, proving your point by scooting your hips away from his. As soon as there were inches between you, his arm diligently reeled you back in, until your ass hit the cool metal again. You flinched. This was the most difficult cuddling you'd likely ever been subjected to, but you had never really thought Nevada would be the cuddling type. "Either lose the belt or sleep on your own side of the bed." 

While cursing, he reluctantly separated from you, mumbling under his breath as he obediently took his belt off. The leather strip was tossed across the room, the buckle loudly clanking against the door on impact. While at it, he shamelessly discarded his jeans, leaving them in a pool on the floor. "You fuckin' happy now?" Nevada whispered, as if the belt wouldn't have woken anyone already. "So bossy." 

His legs grazed yours as he went back to lying alongside you- and you jumped, or tried to. He easily kept you trapped against his chest. "You didn't have to take your pants off, Vada." You whimpered, but gave up on escape as his arm under you slid up so his fist rest by your chin. Almost instinctively, you coddled into his hold, and moved his hand closer so you could press your lips against his fingers. "Thank you, Nevada." Perhaps you hadn't planned on this, but now you didn't think you'd be able to fall asleep without him. You were thankful, might as well let him know. 

"You're always fucking talking," the arm around your waist tensed, and you sighed against his hand when you felt him move down just a bit- his nose and mouth had found the base of where your spine met your neck, and he left them there as his breathing calmed and he found comfort in you and sleep. His breath along your back was comforting; admittedly, it was good to know he was there. "Go to sleep." 

You coddled your cheek against his fist, still holding onto his wrist so he couldn't take it from you. Nevada; smoke, street, and the hot scent of liquor covered you in a cloud as you obediently let him spoon you. His hand was warm, and despite the blows it's delivered before, it held his smell and was surprisingly comforting. Dirt, cigars, blood- likely yours, and god knows what else filled your nose. It was heavenly, familiar. 

So you did as you always did, you listened to Nevada, and you went to sleep. 

\--- 

Somehow, sometime in the evening, you two had become intertwined. When the sun flooded in from the opened curtains, you instinctively ducked your face into the soft hollow of Nevada's throat to protect your sleepy eyes. He twitched and his grip tightened; you squirmed just enough to notice you were against his chest with one of his arms holding your head against him and the other firmly taught across your lower back- you could feel him breathing through your whole torso. The sudden attack of sunlight woke him up too, but instead of hiding as you had, he glared over at the window to notice a smaller silhouette standing in front of the light. 

"You two make me sick," Natalia reminded you both before eagerly climbing over her brother to lay on the other side of you. Smiling, you roughly went to work shoving Nevada off of you, pushing your palms against his chest until he was finally awake enough to uncoil himself from you. Now freed, you curled your limbs around your sweet Natalia, smiling to yourself as the scent of flowers replaced the warm smell of street that had been surrounding you all night. 

"You make me fucking sick," Nevada grumbled as he sat up on the edge of the bed, now cold and agitated from the interruption. He looked behind him, and watched quietly as you placed hands on Natalia's swelling belly. 

They could make each other sick all they'd like. You were just happy to be there. "Are you hungry, baby?" You jokingly leaned an ear against her stomach, while looking up to see Natalia beaming down at you. "I can make breakfast, if Nevada's got anything in there." 

"I don't," he confirmed emotionlessly while shaking his head. 

You scowled at him, but he only smirked smugly back. Perhaps he held you all night, and maybe it was out of the little sweetness he had in his heart; but the fact that it was dismissed to punish him for his lack of culinary supplies- that's what he adored you for. 

The solution came with his insistent sister. "Nevada, take us to brunch," Natalia begged, pouting her lips, "Lillian is hungry..."

He furrowed his brows. "You can't use her yet." Nevada pointed down at the belly you were leaning against. "That's not fair." 

"Nevada, please," You joined the begging chorus, sitting up so Natalia could lounge lazily over your shoulders. "She's hungry, she's gonna get sick if she doesn't eat." Or, at least, you assumed she would. You weren't a doctor. 

"Yea," she nodded in agreeance before leaning her cheek against your hair. "Seeing you two all cuddly already made me wanna gag," Natalia stuck her tongue out and made a crude yaking noise. "I'ma puke all over your pretty place if I don't eat soon." 

"Why do YOU get to go if SHE'S the hungry one?" He rose to standing, and placed his hands on the back of his neck. Natalia's jaw dropped, offended for you. 

You wilted, going doe-eyed for a moment and actually not biting back at his strike. After all, you had opened a world of trouble for him from your antics last night. When your smart tongue didn't spit venom his way, Nevada frowned. "Oh come on, like I wouldn't take you," he grumbled. "If you two aren't ready in ten minutes, you're not going." 

Nodding lazily, you went back to the blankets, assuming you'd just borrow something of Natalia's to wear. If you had ten minutes, you could be lazy for five more. Nevada sat on the opposite side of the bed, retrieving his things from the nightstand. 

"Nevada," you spoke from your cocoon of comfort, and he roughly tugged at the material so you wouldn't be muffled. 

"What do you want now?" He asked teasingly, slipping shiny rings on his fingers as he watched you lay down again. "I swear you girls will kill me one day." Holding out his hands, he pretended to be more interested in his jewelry than you. "You always want, want, want or talk, talk, talk-"

"Nevada," your voice was soft, and you ignored his berating; "Vada, how much trouble am I in?" 

He stopped, everything. In a surprising act of sincerity, he shifted, so he'd be lying a few inches from you with his head on the same pillow as yours. Still silent, he reached to push some of your hair out of your face. He frowned, which was typically an ominous sign, and your eyes must have shown your fear of the bad news. His thumb ran along your jaw line, then he pat gently at your cheek. "Don't worry about it," Nevada finally whispered, and the relief of those words let you exhale the breath you had been struggling to find. You reached up, wrapping your fingers around his wrist so he wouldn't pull away. He didn't try, not right away. "I got you, don't worry, just do what I say." You nodded, his palm cupping your face for a few more moments. "And you gotta be a good girl for a while. A very good girl," His green eyes were serious, these were instructions, and you nodded vigorously to show you'd do just that. You'd do whatever he said. 

"Now get the fuck up," His saccharine smile faded to the devilish Cheshire grin, he jumped up from his spot and smacked at your derriere over the sheets. "I don't have all day." You cringed, rolling over onto your back before sitting up in the bed. Nevada left, likely to go get dressed, and he nearly ran into Natalia as she diligently came back with a sundress in hand. 

She watched his door shut, before rolling her eyes and closing the door to the room you two were in. "When are you two just gonna get married or something?" Natalia taunted, tossing the dress onto the bed so you could get to changing. 

You scoffed. "Maybe after he stops hitting me in the face?" You suggested, tossing his shirt you had been wearing and shrugging the little yellow dress on over your head. "Or stops calling me a niñita, or stops being a whore with whores, or stops-"

Her wide eyes and opened jaw welcomed you as you popped up through the neck hole. Suspiciously, you perked a brow, and she clapped her hands in front of her chest. "You'd do it!" She accused loudly, a squeal of sorts, which she tried to make up for by covering her mouth afterwards. "You'd so do it- we'd be sisters!" Now whispering through her fingers, but the pitch was high with her excitement. "Oh can you imagine, it'd be perfect, he'd take care of you and everything; and we could all live together and-"

"Shut up, he practically owns me." You hissed, cheeks growing a hot pink as your embarrassment grew. "We both know Nevada would have to be the one giving me away if I ever got married-"

Your hypothetical conversation was interrupted with a firm fist hitting the opposite side of the door, making you both jump. "Hurry it up, girls!" 

\---

Nevada was going to just barge in, you were in his apartment after all, but just at that moment he heard you tell Natalia to shut up. Curiosity got the best of him, and he nosily pressed an ear against the door to try and see what you two were discussing. 

_’We both know Nevada would have to be the one giving me away if I ever got married.'_

Nostrils flared, and he hit the door hard enough to make it rattle. "Hurry it up, girls!"  
Slow down, Niñita. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo, I decided to play around on Tumblr with this fanfiction stuff. Hoping for some prompts or whatever, but it's also just fun to post pictures / music I find on there too, plus I like saving my drafts there... so if anyone's interested: [OhBelieveYouMe](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ohbelieveyoume)

“So are you excited?” You passed her the bowl of fruit you had been picking through, and bit into a strawberry. “You’ve only got like a month or so to go, babe.”

Natalia nodded, and giggled a bit as she dreamily rest her face in her hands. “I am, really, I’m excited to see her sweet little face.” The glow in her eyes made her seem far away, but it still made you happy.

“She’s gonna be beautiful.” Nevada insisted, as he had the entire pregnancy. She was a Ramirez, of course she'd be lovely. “You got everything you’re going to need, right?” He smirked knowingly from across the table; he had gotten her plenty already.

“Yea, yea, yea,” She fluttered her fingers in the air to show how little she was concerned- she had been ready for days now. The nesting bug bit her one morning last week, and she had called you so you would go shopping with her, after you both spent at least an hour convincing Nevada to give you his credit card- for Lillian, of course. Baby blankets, an obnoxious array of pink dresses and onesies, some headbands that you wondered if a little baby could even wear- and all the cleaning supplies you could find. You had smelled like bleach for days after Nevada insisted Natalia couldn’t be stuck in a bathroom with that junk. You agreed, of course, but everyone knew he wouldn’t be the one scrubbing the bathtub she was so concerned about.

You took a sip of your mimosa; they made them so fancy here. Nevada liked to go here for their steak, naturally, and of course it only ever mattered where Nevada wanted to go. Some fruity cocktail with shaved strawberries and enough champagne to tickle your nose while you drank. “And you know to call me as soon as you even think she’s coming, right?”

“You two act like I’m not ready,” Natalia chastised, and pouted a bit after plopping a grape into her mouth. “I’ve got this.”

“I know you do, I’m just saying…” You pouted right back at her, lips still red from the second bite of strawberry you had just taken. “I’m on call, I got you.”

“How are you going to get her anywhere?” Nevada scoffed, chuckling at the idea. You didn’t have a car, neither did Natalia. Why else would you two always call him for rides? “You might as well just call me and I’ll get her-” he pointed your way with his knife, “there whenever I can.”

Your jaw dropped, who did he think he was? “Are you kidding me? No, you call me first,” you insisted in a whine, turning back to Natalia. She giggled, and dropped a hand to your thigh so she could scoot closer to you on the bench you shared.

“At this rate, you two will likely be together anyways, so stop fightin’.” She kissed the tip of your nose before you could glare at her, and Nevada rolled his eyes. “I gotta go to the ladies room, you two be nice.” You took another strawberry from the bowl, biting into it so you wouldn’t giggle at her waddling away. That big basketball belly threw her balance off, but you didn’t want to tease her, not with how her hormones had been lately. She was almost scarier than her brother.

“You keep eatin’ those-” Nevada taunted, and pointed to the strawberry in your mouth as well as the shavings in your mimosa, “and you’re gonna turn into a damn strawberry.”

Defiantly, you took yet another dramatic bite. “I’ve always looked good in red,” you shrugged smugly and he dropped his hands to the table in exasperation.

“Maybe it’ll make you a little sweeter.” He chuckled proudly, cocking his head to the side. "Make you a lil nicer."

“I am sweet,” you glared, finishing off the last bite of the fruit you had.

He wagged his head in disagreement, biting his lip for a moment to try and keep back his smile. “Nuh-uh, you’re spoiled.” His utensil was aimed at you again, and you pointed your own finger at him.

“Am not,” you plumped your lip in feigned offense. Delicately, you went to retrieve another strawberry. “Why,” You wriggled teasingly in your seat, and hitched your voice to try and mimic the high-pitched tone he used to mock you, “you want a taaaaaste, Vada?”

Nevada’s turn to glare. Quickly- he reached across to snag the bowl of fruit before you could get another, and gave you a swift kick to your shin. “You’re rude,” he advised as you winced and mewed while leaning down to rub where his boot had hit you. That would bruise. He wiped at his face with the napkin, trying to conceal the blush that had risen to his cheeks. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, I got shit to do, I’m taking you home.”

—

Someone had ransacked your apartment.

When you first walked in, your heart stopped; the table was on its side. Your sofa had no cushions left on it, they were scattered across the room. All the doors to the few rooms were wide opened- one even appeared to have been kicked, considering the hole in the bottom of it. You slid mindlessly into your bedroom; all the drawers were opened. Lingerie, dresses, jewelry- they had all been abandoned recklessly to the floor. What remained, at least, you knew you had better necklaces and bracelets than the costume jewelry sprawled on the hardwood- Nevada had gotten you tons over the years for all the work you’d done for him. Tears sprouted in your eyes.

Swiftly, you rushed to your closet. Conveniently, all of your clothes had been torn from the hangers, which revealed exactly what you had been afraid of. The little fireproof safe Nevada had gotten you when you first moved into your own place was missing. Your passport, social security card, birth certificate, some cash and more expensive gifts you’d earned since being on your own.

After the brief survey, a cold chill ran down your spine. Instinctively, you dialed the only number that came to mind, and waited impatiently as it rang.

“You miss me already?” Nevada asked boldly once he finally answered, but his smug attitude was driven off course when he realized you were sniffling. “Niñita, what’s wrong?”

“Vada, someone’s been here,” you were whispering and whimpering; you had crawled onto your bed so you could sit in the middle of the stripped mattress. All your sheets had been balled and thrown into the corners. “They messed the place up, they stole shit, they-”

“Are they still there?” Oh fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Spontaneously, you started to weep, unable to hold back your tears when fear flooded through you. “Shit, shhh, get the fuck outta there while you’re on the phone.” His tone was demanding, compelling; “now.”

Obediently, you hopped to your feet, snatching at your clutch and slipping expertly out the still-opened front door. “Where do I go?” You couldn’t think, so he did it for you.

“I’ll be there in five, just stay outside and in public, you hear me?”

You nodded, even though you were well aware he couldn’t hear your head bob in agreeance with his instructions. You'd do exactly as he said, and he knew it.

—

Nevada took not even five minutes to get there after you called, and you were obediently waiting on the sidewalk as he had instructed you to do. The car peeled up alongside you, and he hopped out of the passenger seat before it came to a complete stop. “You okay?” He cupped your red cheeks in his hands, and you nodded. He meant physically, and you knew that. Upon confirmation, he moved along past you, and strode his way up the stairs until he hit your floor and found your door- still opened.

He walked slowly, taking off his sunglasses as he glanced around the disheveled apartment. It had been a long while since he was at your place; you usually went to theirs for obvious reasons. “This place is a piece of shit.” Thanks, Nevada. Silently, he wandered through the rooms while smartly peeking behind doors and into closets. Finally, he decided it was empty, and turned back to you girls leaning against the countertops in the kitchen. “What all’s gone?”

“Everything that matters.” You were tearing up, and Natalia diligently worked on wiping the wet sadness from your cheeks. “They even took my firebox, the one you got me. I had everything in there.”

This was rough, mostly because he wasn’t surprised. In fact, considering what he’d do to a girl who pulled a gun on him- this was almost benevolent. They were probably just trying to scare you, he figured; and get a down payment for the damage you’d done to the car. “Well,“ Nevada glanced in your room, and chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought. "Pack whatever you still have,” he slid his glasses back on and nodded authoritatively. “You’re moving into Natalia’s.”

That wouldn’t go well with the whole 'independence' thing you had been working on lately, "But the lease?” And you needed to be closer to the cafe if you planned on paying all the fees to break that thing; “But what about wor-”

You could feel his green eyes glowering at you even behind his shades, why did he need those indoors? “Fuck your lease,” you should have expected that. “Fuck that job, too. I’ve been telling you to leave there.” He went to your bedroom, and retrieved an old suitcase he had seen when he was looking through your closet. “You work for me now.”

You flinched before joining him in the bedroom, and Natalia diligently followed with your fingers tangled in hers. “I don’t want to work for you.” You whispered it, almost scared to say it out loud. Luckily, he was being soft with you for now, considering the circumstances.

“Yes you do.” He nodded slowly, knowingly, and began haphazardly tossing your clothes laying on the ground into the suitcase. “I like this,” he chuckled, holding up a little black chiffon dress that had pink and red roses printed all over it. “Why don’t you wear this? I haven’t seen this?” Natalia nodded in agreement, and ran her fingers along the eyelash lace edging the hem.

“Doing what?“ He may be able to distract her, but not you. You snatched the too-short dress from his hands and threw it into the bag he had started for you. "For how long?” Despite your disapproval of your new employment status, you helped him by shoving what was left of your jewelry and drawer contents in with everything else.

Once you and Natalia were working on packing, he turned to his cell phone. “We’ll talk about it on the way, I’ve been thinking.” Nevada chuckled when he noticed you packing lingerie, even unblushingly held up two garter belts that caught his eye until Natalia slapped at his hand and put them back. “Now let’s get out of this shithole, I’m getting bed bugs just walking around here.

—

"So?” You had been persistently bothering him about this job opportunity ever since he brought it up, which was probably exactly why he was refusing to discuss it with you yet.

Nevada ignored you. “Jesus Christ, Niñita, you got enough shit?” He had hurled your suitcase and two other bags into the back of his car; it really wasn’t all that much. Looking back via the rear view mirror, he could see the stack of your luggage easier than he could see out the back.

Natalia giggled from beside you in the back seat. “Can’t handle a little physical labor, old man?” Easy for her to say, since she was excluded from helping carry things. Didn’t save her from the glare he shot her way.

“Nevada, please,” you were resorting to begging, and the paired words apparently earned you his attention.

Finally, he put his cell phone away, and you could only hope he was looking at you from behind those damned shades. The car had tinted windows, did he really need those? What was he hiding behind them, other than those green eyes? “You’re the new nanny.” He said simply, and a smile pulled across his face ear to ear.

“She is!?” Natalia gasped, and wrapped her hand around your thigh close to your knee in excitement. “Oh, really Nevada?!”

Apparently there was a conversation you had missed. “Wait, nanny?” You asked, placing your hand over Natalia’s as she shook your leg side to side. “Who’s nanny? Your nanny?”

Natalia bobbed her head up and down in vibrant confirmation, but it was Natalia who spoke. “I promised her a nanny, help out with her and the baby, since el padre incumplidor isn’t around.” He shrugged, and then slid his glasses up onto his head so he could appropriately gauge your reaction. “You got the gig.”

This was almost… pleasant? It felt off, you’d love to take care of Natalia and Lillian- but it was oddly benevolent of him. “R-really? So I just have to take care of the apartment, of Lilly, of Nat?” Your face turned hopeful, and he bit his lip as he nodded.

“And whatever else needs done, or handled.” It worked just as well for him. He trusted you, he knew you’d take better care of his sister and niece than anyone else he could hire to do so. He’d know where you were, which would be important to him even after all the Gerald chaos was over. “You do a good job and you stay rent free, make some spending money.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You don’t trust me?” Nevada risked his tongue at you, before pouting his lips just as Natalia had done earlier. They were like mirror images sometimes. “I’m kinda the best thing you got right now, Niñita.”

Natalia threw her arms around your shoulders. “Just say yes, _Your Name_ , it’ll be perfect.” Her forehead pressed against your temple, and she was practically in your lap at this point. Nevada; Nevada you always felt like you had to question, never sure when he was giving you a trick or a treat. But Natalia, you could always and only trust Natalia.

“Okay, baby, okay,” You coiled your arms through hers, and she kissed your cheek until you were sure you’d have her lip stain painted on your face. “Of course, Nat,” you agreed further, finally accepting your fate and smiling broadly at the idea. This would be nice, nicer than most anything you’ve done for the Ramirez clan. You’d get to watch the baby grow, you wouldn’t have to worry about money, you’d get to live with your precious Natalia and see her every day-

And you’d be at the mercy of Nevada, completely dependent on his orders and his money. You silently prayed for his benevolence to continue, make this the happy ending you’d never quite been able to reach.

“Perfect,” Nevada was back in his phone, confident Natalia would be able to sway you to agreeing to the arrangement. “Now, we’re gonna drop Nat off but you’re staying with me for a little bit longer.” Suddenly, the fact he had been so enthralled with his cell was surprisingly interesting.

Your eyebrow perked, and you both curiously turned towards the front seat. “What do you need me for?” You asked suspiciously, but he didn’t even justify it by turning to face you.

“We have some friends we need to talk to,” He chuckled a bit, but it was almost a nervous laugh. What could make Nevada nervous? “And you’re the guest of honor, Niñita.”

Fuck.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps: someone sent me a cute prompt on Tumblr regarding this story; [When Niñita was a niñita](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8342065).

You were sat on the floor, arms resting on the coffee table in front of you and your chin propped up on your laced fingers. Nevada was behind you on the sofa, a leg on either side of you and his hands atop your head. "She was confused," He spoke lightly, while smiling even, to the three men who stood on the other side of the table. 

Somehow the wooden decoration had become the line in the sand, enforced by the two larger men who stood behind the sofa you two were at. Nevada’s men vs Gerald’s, and you were the middle. "Your Gerry drove her crazy, what did he expect to happen? Lil mamacitas are most fun when they're angry," He bent down to pinch your cheeks and forcefully purse your lips, "that's why we love them, isn't she so fucking cute?" You grimaced; it felt like he was talking about a dog. 

They weren't amused. "She almost fucking shot him, Nevada." They looked annoyed, notably so, but you tried your best not to look at them at all. You studied your fingertips, or the one to the left typing diligently on his cell phone as the others spoke. Who was he talking to? 

"But she didn't," he wagged a knowing finger in their direction, "she wouldn't have, she was just scared, you know." Nevada rest his arms on your shoulders, fingers dangling in front of your chest so he could trace the chain of your necklace. “You boys are intimidating to a lil’ thing like her.” You pouted on cue. 

Again, the men were unmoved. "She pulled a gun on him, she embarrassed him." The largest stranger in the middle let his gaze fall on you, and you cast yours to the ground. “She cost a lot of money in damages, too.” 

"She embarrassed ME, are you kidding?!" He patted at your cheek, hard enough to make you recoil and a soft crack to come from the impact. "I taught her better than that." They didn't look nearly as cheery as he faked, so he decided to shift off the jocular route. "What would make Gerry happy?" Nevada asked finally, pouting out his lip to feign immense concern. "What's he want now, it's all over, and she’s not even his problem now." 

"He wants to talk to her, alone." The men clarified. "And he needs to pay for the car." 

Nevada roared with laughter, his knees tapping at your arms as he leaned back to speak to his own men. "These motherfuckers, do I look like an idiot?" He mused your hair with his hands, "she points a gun and they want her alone, c'mon gentlemen-" Turning back to those across the room, he gave a tug on your tresses hard enough raise your chin. "Don't be condescending." 

"Nevada, this is serious. She could have killed him, and nothing's happened to her." The thinner one at least spoke sense, enough for Nevada to give him genuine attention. “She can't just get out of this because she's your little pet." 

He lit a cigar, and then leaned back into the sofa he was on. “She’s no pet- pets obey.” Nevada used his right hand to reach down until he could cup your cheek in his palm from behind, you nuzzled into his touch. "He and she are never going to be alone again," it was simple, but his tone assured his sincerity. "If you don't know of any compromise beyond her going somewhere without me, it's not happening." He shrugged his hands into the air. “We’re wasting our time.” 

Attention turned to the one who had been on his phone the whole time; you assumed he was updating someone on the failure. The other two twisted his way as well, and silence overcame the room. Few seconds later, a ding- subtle enough to barely resonate in the apartment, but just enough of a noise to make you flinch from your seat. Nevada's hand slid reassuringly to your shoulder, and he tightened his touch. You leaned your head until your cheek skimmed his knuckles. 

The one with the cell phone nodded, and the larger one spoke again. "He'll talk with you and her, but only you and her. Nobody else in the room where it happens." Apparently they had already discussed this, or the possibility of it. "No weapons or tricks, you two can be gentleman, can't you?" 

You shifted, so you sat on your legs, raising you a couple inches. "He's always a gentleman," You piped up for the first time, and all eyes fell onto you the moment you dared to open your mouth. They didn't seem amused, but Nevada moved both his hands so his forefingers and thumbs nearly touched while encircling your neck. 

Nevada shrugged, and rocked you to and fro a bit. "Girl's got a point..." 

\--- 

They made plans for him to arrive later that evening, 8:00 if you recalled correctly. You hadn't been listening much; there was no point, after all. You were the catalyst, not the solution- and you were definitely there to be spoken to, not to speak. Nevada had been preparing you ever since those men left, holding your face in his hands and speaking seriously about your behavior. You were to be polite, to be quiet, and to let him do the talking. You were to be nice; you were to nod and smile, to at least look apologetic- he smiled when he said that one, knowing you weren't at all sorry. 

For the trouble, yes, but for your deeds; absolutely not. 

"He's gonna try to get to you, 'cause he can;" Nevada nodded your head for you, acceptance wasn't an option, it was obliged. "You're not gonna let him. You did enough, Tu entiendes?" This time your nod was voluntary, and he kissed your forehead before finally letting you go. 

You spent the rest of the hours between visits curled on the sofa, your head in Nevada’s lap as he watched the television or clicked around on his phone. You wondered who he could be talking to, especially considering how quiet he had been, but his free hand combing through your hair rendered you compliant and silent. None of your business, you supposed. Your dreamy rest was interrupted with knocking at the door, and you gazed expectantly at the clock when Nevada physically moved you to sitting. 

He wasted no time answering the door, was even pleasant enough to hold it open so the boy could wander in. "Oh how the tables do turn, eh Gerry?" It was a sick, twisted deja vu. You sat on the couch, tired eyes locked on your ex as he leered once he noticed you. You spun to face the television instead. He was late. 

"Nice to see you, too." Gerald choked out, and stuck his head in the door to survey the room before helping himself in. There were plenty of reasons for no witnesses, but he wanted to be sure the promise was kept. 

Gerald nosily wandered to the rooms, opening the doors quickly so they'd all be opened. Nevada allowed it, even chose not to intrude as he did. When the younger man walked behind the couch you sat on, he ran his hand along the back cushion. You felt his thumb graze the back of your neck, and you jumped. "You look nice, _Your Name_." 

"No she doesn't," Nevada wasted no time to take a seat beside you, teasingly pulling on the bottom of your short skirt. "That thing makes her look like a slut." In an act of possession or protection, he curled his hand on your thigh. His thumb slid side to side just behind your knee, his silver rings pressed indents in your skin. 

"You look nice, _Your Name_." Gerald repeated, apparently desiring a response from you instead of Nevada. His stubborn attitude shone through the cool exterior. 

You'd give it to him, but only since he asked twice. "Bite me." Nevada's grip tightened, and you could feel his side-eye of disapproval. 

"Strong words from someone in your situation," Gerald scowled, and started pacing to and fro as he spoke. "Do you know what I could have done to you?" 

You childishly stuck your tongue out at him, only to get chastised by Nevada slapping his palm hard enough on your thigh to leave a resounding 'smack' sound in its wake. "Be good, niñita, you've done enough." He ordered while you bit your lip to keep from whining. 

Gerald rolled his eyes, “you are the fucking worst.” He was already wondering why he even bothered coming. "Let's get to it already?" 

Nevada nodded, keeping his hand on your leg as he leaned forward a bit. "Si, let's." He was ready to put this behind you all just as much as you were. "So you use mamacita, how did your friend put it, to keep my fingers off of you;" Nevada nodded knowingly, and wiggled his fingers in the air. Gerald turned pale. "Mamacita finds out, mamacita wrecks your car." He rolled his hands in circles, to signify the roundabout listing of events. "Most people would call that karma you know." 

"I don't give a shit about the car, but she is going to pay me back for that." His gaze shifted to you, and you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. How on Earth could you ever afford that? "I care that you pulled the goddamn gun on me." He was pointing now, and your stare squint. You didn't like that. "What did you think was going to happen, you really thought you needed it?" Gerald cocked his head to the side. "If you hadn't of pulled that gun, I'd have taken you home-" he tried to signify his benevolence by holding his hands to his chest. "You're better in bed when you're angry, after al-"

"You're a fraud," You cut him off as your lip turned up into a snarl. Nevada was right; he was trying to get to you. It took a split second; to regain composure, to remember the lines Nevada had trained you on the hours before. "I had no clue what protection I'd need." 

Nevada apparently thought the exchange was humorous. "The fuck, Gerald, she wasn't going to shoot you." His laughter should have lightened the mood, but it definitely didn’t work. 

Gerald immediately jutted an accusing finger your way. "You knew it was loaded," his tone was damning. "You can fool this old man, but you can't fool me- I know you know it was loaded." His eyes gave him away, he was angry. Angry you’d use his own pistol to scare him. Angry you did it in front of his friends. 

"You're such a baby, you're really that pissed about the gun?" You threw your arms into the air in a dramatic shrug. "You got it back, it's not like I kept it." 

"YES!" He slammed his fists on the arms of the chair, and you jumped just a bit closer to Nevada when he shouted. "Yes, I'm pissed about the gun, you're fucking loco,” The accusation stung in an odd way, and you looked away when he called you ‘loco’. “I should wave a pistol in your face and see how you feel." 

"You were chin deep in a stupid slut's cunt," You were about to stand and point at him the way he was doing you, but Nevada's hand on your leg forced you to stay sitting, like a bar on a roller coaster ride. "I think my feelings got hurt a little more than your goddamn ego did." 

Your ex snickered, "I wish you were as crazy on a mattress as you were on the car." He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his legs as your jaw dropped. Expectantly, you twisted to face Nevada, who didn't seem particularly amused or hurt by the subject. 

When prompted by you knocking your knee against his leg, Nevada broke the awkward silence: "I'm not an old man." He put out the cigarette, and sighed audibly. "Now you two can bicker and get a room or we can solve this, come on kids." His fingertip went to tapping at the watch on his wrist. He wanted to move this along. 

"She's not going to that club anymore." Gerald demanded, and it took you by surprise. 

Your first protest, the one thing you had been instructed not to provide. "That's my favorite club-"

"Done." Nevada shrugged, that was an easy one. He didn’t like that club anyway, you girls liked it, and thankfully Natalia shouldn’t be going out dancing anytime soon. You all could find somewhere else to drink and shake your asses. "How much damage was the car?" 

Gerald rolled his eyes, and buried his face in his hands. It almost looked as if he were distressed to think about it. "She doesn't make enough to even begin to cover that." 

"Not everyone can sell their soul, you devil." That earned you an exasperated glare from not only the intended, but also from Nevada. You were interrupting, the men were talking. This may have been caused by you, but you weren't expected to be involved now. They had their own business to attend to. You were wearing out your welcome. 

Finally, Nevada swatted at your thigh, before separating his protecting presence from your skin. "Niñita, go to my room." His voice had lowered, and you raised an eyebrow as you gazed at him for a reason. You wouldn't receive one. "Go," he reached for a drawer under the table, pulling out a box of cigars. That meant business was going to be discussed. "And don't come out, you hear me?" 

"But Nevad-" 

Gerald piped in; "Listen to your Papi." He ran his tongue along the inside of his lip as you shot daggers with your glare. 

Nevada’s face dropped, and he bit the inside of his cheek, though you weren't sure if it was because of your indignance or his crude remark. "Go, please." Ouch. You weren't sure why, but the 'please' made you squirm. Nevada rarely said please. You dropped your hand to land atop his, and gave a soft squeeze before obediently rising to your feet. 

"Okay, Nevada," you mumbled under your breath before snatching your purse from the table and wandering into his bedroom. You shut the door behind you, obediently, and lingered with your fingertips on the doorknob for a few seconds too long. Out of your control, now. 

\--- 

"Now that you can fuckin' focus," Nevada offered him a cigar and Gerald gladly took it. "Let's talk like gentlemen, eh? It's long overdue, after all." 

Gerald winced. Honestly, he had been putting it off. He had planned on running- running his happy ass to the opposite side of the country. As soon as word got back to him that Nevada knew all the info he had leaked to the opposing party, he started planning a getaway. Obviously, he had intended on absconding with you, as if you were a security blanket. All that had been fucked, though. He needed a way out. 

"What would make you happy?" Nevada guided the conversation. It was difficult ground they were treading on. The best way to solve this should be simple among two smart men, but some wrongs can't be righted so simply. The information had been handed over, the threat on a life had been made- those were both things you can't exactly undo. This conversation wasn't about making things right. This discussion would end with things being even. That could only happen if both men were satisfied. A compromise. Could they ever be satisfied, though? 

"Immunity," Gerald began simply, taking a puff of his cigar as he reclined in his seat. He knew he would never get forgiveness, but he wanted to know he wouldn't be chased after. A clean getaway. 

Nevada nodded slowly, considerably. "You shouldn't tell mamacitas where you hide loaded guns, you dumbass." He chuckled, and Gerald slunk further into the cushions. That was a good point. "Also, she may have pointed the pistol at you, but she would have never pulled the trigger." 

"Yes, yes she would have-" Gerald vehemently disagreed, and showed so by rapidly shaking his head side to side. "That girl is fucking crazy, Nevada." He pointed at him now, trying to make his point, but it was quickly realized that it would be useless. “Not that you don’t fuckin’ know that.” 

He smirked, he knew you were. "Your life wasn't in fuckin' danger, don't be a pussy." He cocked his head to the side and patted at his own chest. "My money, though, my money is in fuckin danger. You know why?" 

Gerald sighed, and his shoulders drooped. Of course he knew why. "Nevada, I want out." 

"Out?" Nevada chuckled. "You should'a thought of that before you got yourself IN to it, Gerry." He rapped his fingers against the table top. “You were just fine as my attorney, I took care of you. Then you became a little shithead.” 

"I was pretty upset after that shit happened," The bombshell was coming, the only ball he had in his court really. "I told some people who got a lot more upset than I did, promised to make her regret it." Gerald nodded, trying to hide his confident smirk. "They called her a pit bull, dangerous. Trained by you." 

"They don't know my girl." Nevada leaned forward, frustrated. "If I let you out, then you disappear. And all of this does too?" He blew cigar smoke in Gerry’s face, and he worked hard not to choke his way through the cloud. 

"And you don't chase me.” Gerald recommended boldly. “Nobody does, you and her are the only ones that know where I’m going." 

"Back pedal,” Nevada reverted curiously back to his previous statement. "Why would anyone get more upset than you about this?" 

Gerald smiled devilishly, and ashed his cigar before finally responding. "That wasn't my car." A blessing in disguise. 

Nevada grimaced. Of course it wasn't. That would have been way too easy. "Did your Papi let you borrow it?" Explained why he was so butt hurt about the gun threat. 

Gerald shrugged. "In a sense. And Papi's mad now." He nodded, not even worried about the condescension. This may have been embarrassing, but at this point it wasn't his problem. The car had been a borrowed gift, one he loved of course, but borrowed none the less. "At both of us." 

"Because you pissed off the pit bull." Nevada pointed across at him, making sure he realized where his fault fell. "Who's Papi?" 

Gerald nearly dropped his cigar at the dumb question. "Do I look fucking stupid?" He had gotten in enough trouble already. 

"I'm bored." Nevada explained, and pouted when he did. Gerald nodded in understanding, and rose to his feet. He didn't want to be here anymore than Nevada did. "So you want out, Papi needs repaid, and I need to know what all you gave them." 

Gerald left the cigar in an ash tray, and put his hands on the back of his neck. He stalked, back and forth for a moment, idly glancing over to the door you had disappeared behind. "He knows about four accounts; the two in Mexico, the warehouse, and your-" air quotes, "grocery store investment." 

Nevada made a mental note, only four? "The others?" 

"I don't like playing my whole hand." He shrugged, and chuckled. "Learned that from you." Gerald proceeded while Nevada shook his head. "I owe $10k for the car." 

"Steep," the older advised. “It was some windows and dents.” 

"Interest," the younger confirmed. 

Nevada nodded. He had taught Gerald a lot, apparently. It was surprising he had been paying such close attention. "You'd have done well working for me, nino." He explained simply. "Let's reach an agreement, but listen here-" He pointed towards his bedroom door. "She is officially uninvolved. If your Papi has a problem, he comes to me. Never her, ever. You understand?" 

Gerald's eyes were still on the door. "I wanna talk to her." He was expecting a rejection, but this was going relatively well anyway. When Nevada shook his head to signify ‘no’, he pushed his luck. “Do you love her?” It was asked in a hush, airy, almost as if he didn’t mean to bring it up. 

"You're never gonna talk to her again, Gerry." Nevada tisked his tongue at him, and laughed at the thought. “And there is no love in the world, not enough of it anyway; stop dreaming.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, making certain to keep a close eye on Gerald. Back to the vow of leaving You alone. "You bother her, or they do- I'm tellin' them exactly where you went." Nevada smiled, the Cheshire grin, "and exactly everything you've told me." 

The boy was over his head, Nevada knew it, and he’d use it. The cash, he could pay them off and make that back, and he would because he didn't want anyone else coming after you for it. Part of him didn't even believe there was a 'Papi', but Gerald was too cocky to make something like that up. He was rolling, and rolling, and rolling- he'd roll anyone he had to if it got him out of trouble. Gerald nodded in understanding, and Nevada hopped up from his spot with his cigar in his mouth. 

"I'll get you the cash, you finish your cigar, and then you get the fuck out of here." He clapped his hands together, and started towards the bedroom door. “You wait out here a minute, okay Gerry?” 

The boy nodded solemnly, as happy as you would eventually be to know it's done. Without even announcing it, he pulled a folder from his suitcase and handed it to Nevada. Your name was written lazily across the front, and inside held your most important documents – birth certificate, social security information, passport. Nice confession, Gerald. 

If he wanted to roll, Nevada would push him right along.  
As long as all this could go away. As long as you’d be left alone. 

As long as you both could move on. Without Gerald, and without his trouble. 

\--- 

You had been in there for at least an hour now. Boredom was becoming prevalent; you couldn’t even hear the men speak on the other side of the wall. Not that you were trying. Ignorance was bliss sometimes, and you had to trust Nevada now. You just had to. 

Nosily, you opened the cigar box, curious to see all the most precious jewelry held inside. You knew this box was special; Nevada had never hidden that fact. It was his treasure cove, his secret place. Smirking, you ran your fingertips along the collections of chains and pendants, shifting through the gold and silver in pure admiration. They were cool against your skin. You saw a reflection, some light sparking back up at you from a glossy surface. You moved the jewelry aside and cocked your head when you noticed a photograph. Unabashedly, you pulled it out on top of the other goods. 

It was the old picture from your school dance, the one he had been bullied by the women in his life to attend with you. His mother had berated and begged him until he gave in; you figured it must have been the worst night of his life. What man wants to spend a night dancing with his little sister and her friend? If that was true, though, why did he have that photograph hidden in the cigar box you knew meant so much to him? 

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door slung open, and Nevada helped himself in with a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Immediately, you slammed the cigar box shut, and he perked an eyebrow at you as you held your breath. You'd been caught, but he wasn't necessarily all too concerned. It's not like you'd steal from him. Not like it would have done you any good. 

"Stop snooping," he mumbled around the obstruction between his lips. You nodded obediently, and he threw the folder your direction. You easily caught it, and opened the insides to find your essentials for identification. All the paperwork that had been in the safe. That fucking asshole. 

There were more than those in there, though. "Where's my jewelry?" You asked softly, and Nevada shook his head side to side. 

"Nah, Niñita, all that's gone." He removed the cigar to hand it off to you. You took it diligently, while he went to his closet, digging for something behind a few boxes. "You're lucky I even got that shit back." 

You weren't in a position to argue, so you pouted and hugged your folder to your chest. "Can I come out yet?" 

"No." He pulled out a black bag, and plopped it down on the bed. You sat alongside it, curious as to what he was doing. "Stop snooping," he hissed again, moving the bag so it was further away from you and you couldn't peer inside once he opened it. He pulled out a couple stacks of cash, already counted and separated you assumed, then zipped it back up. Without explanation, he started towards the door again, and paused in front of you. He wagged a finger in your face as you handed off the cigar back to him. You already knew what was coming. 

"I won't snoop," you promised with a dramatically audible sigh. Nevada smirked, patting at your cheek as a reward, and then made his leave as quickly as he had arrived. 

You leaned back against the cool black sheets, and stared at the ceiling for a handful of moments. An absent thought slithered into your mind- this was what Nevada saw every night before he fell asleep. You inhaled deeply, the weight of your pendent comforting you as you lazily shut your eyes. You’d have to wait on Nevada. 

While you waited, you dreamt of Natalia, and the sweet bundle of joy you all were waiting on. Soon, sweet Lillian. This would all be worth it, the world would make sense once more, and you could be at their side. To care for them, to live with them, to love them oh so dearly. 

Soon, dear Lillian, soon. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the other two Ramirez sisters; sweet Valentina & sharp Camilla.

Nevada came back into his room after Gerald had left, but froze when he noticed you asleep atop his bed. You didn't move, apparently the door opening wasn't enough to wake you, and so he moved as silently as he could to shut it behind him. He considered waking you, shouting and watching you jump back to consciousness so he could tease you about it afterwards.

Instead, he reached for his comforters, and tugged them over you. Instinctively, you twisted within the larger blankets, and found a nearby pillow to pull under your face. Apparently your time in dream land was too special, and since the simple movement didn't wake you, Nevada decided to let you be. He left the room after grabbing for some things from his closet- including the big black bag you had been earlier instructed not to snoop through.

You could rest, now was as good a time as any.

\---

A few hours later, you awoke, and bolted up in the bed too quickly. You were stricken dizzy, but thankfully the confusion slowly disappeared as you realized you were in Nevada's room. You must have dozed off during deliberations. A quick glance to the clock confirmed your suspicions, it was nearly three am now. You debated turning over and going back to sleep, but curiosity got the best of you. After all, the door leading to the rest of the apartment had been left open.

Dreamily, you went to explore, and squint your eyes when the illumination from the living room hit your eyes. "Nevada?" You called out hoarsely, and wandered knowingly to the couch. He hadn't even justified his name with an answer, but you found him exactly where you thought you would, diligently counting bills.

"It's late," he finally responded, raising an eyebrow as you made your way over to him. "Go back to bed, I'm taking you to Natalia's early tomorrow." He was getting way too comfortable with ordering you around, but you were in no position to protest.

"Why?" You asked, as you went to sit beside him on the couch. He laughed at you, knocking you with his shoulder. It wasn't hard, but you were barely even awake, so you whined before leaning against him so he couldn't easily do it again.

"I said so," he insisted vaguely, and lay down his stacks of money so he could instead pay attention to you. "Why are you even awake, you were out." 

"I 'unno," you shamelessly lay across him, resting your head in his lap as you had done earlier in the day. Nevada flinched the first moment, and then lay his hands to comb through your hair and caress your cheek so you didn't have to press your face against his jeans. "Did everything go well with Gerry?"

Well enough, he supposed. "Yep, don't worry about it." Nevada nodded and moved hair that fell over your forehead from your face. "You just gotta be good and quiet for a while, lay low." His hand slid from your hair, tracing along your necklace he had given you until jumping down to your stomach. He ran his fingertips along the bottom edge of your top, able to skim the soft skin of your belly as he did. Your eyelids fluttered as the comfort of his touch calmed you.

"You should really go to bed, Niñita." He was whispering now, and you turned in towards him as his fingers in your hair moved to massaging the back of your head. Your warm breath hit his waist over his shirt, and Nevada awkwardly shifted beneath you to avoid revealing how he really felt about it. "C'mon, honey, get up."

You obediently rose, and lazily leaned against his arm once his lap was denied to you. "Are you going to bed?" You whispered it, since your face lay on his shoulder and his ear was mere inches away.

"Eventually."

"With me?"

Nevada finally turned to look at you, and squint his stare to try and read your sleepy eyes. Was this sleep-walking-You talking, or did you really want him in bed with you? He couldn't tell, and as such, decided to err on the side of caution. "Go to bed, honey."

You frowned at the rejection, but pushed yourself off of his arm so you could rise up off the sofa. Apparently the other night was a one-shot ordeal. He had been protecting you, not wanting to lie with you. You should have been able to figure that out on your own. "Goodnight, Nevada," you mumbled mindlessly before bending over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. He surprised you, by grabbing onto your chin to keep you still long enough for him to return the peck on your own cheek.

"Goodnight, Niñita," he replied promptly, and watched silently as you yawned and disappeared behind the door to his guest room. A pang of regret seeped in, and suddenly he wished he could re-do the last ten seconds. Tell you to go to his room, to wait for him, that he'd be there soon. Instead, he resigned to giving up on counting his bills. Nevada went to his own room, and fell onto his sheets. It was awfully late, he reasoned in his mind, and he did have plenty to do the next morning.

He rolled over in bed, and was pleased to find that the pillow you had been coddling still held your scent. A smirk pulled at his face, and he buried his face into the silk without even considering the act; your perfume lulled him to sleep, and he dreamt of sweet things he'd likely never confess to.

Things he couldn't confess to.

\---

Knocking that could be construed as a beat to a show tune, and abundant giggling, interrupted the otherwise quiet morning. Natalia sat up on her knees, gazing over the couch towards the door, still dazed from recently awaking from a nap. You peered out of the kitchen, and was surprised to see her just as confused as you.

"You expecting anyone?" You asked gently, and Natalia shook her head while shrugging her arms in the air.

"No, Nevada said he had a surprise but he said it'd be here tonight." Well, that was possibly terrifying. The light knocking switched, and the door rattled when it was hit gruffly with a fist. Apparently he was early.

"Giiiiiiirls, Nevaadaaa's hoooome." This wasn't Nevada's home, but that wasn't really important. You rolled your eyes, absently wondering if he was already drunk. It wasn't even noon, you were working on pie crust. Assuming he had brought back some girls from a club or somewhere else, you hesitated before going to answer.

"Stop bangin', Vada, you're gonna knock the door off the hinges," You whined loudly while working on the locks. Saccharine giggles followed, again, and Natalia cocked her head to the side when you froze in your steps. Those almost sounded familiar.

"Who's there?" She asked from across the room, apparently much more interested as the laughter grew louder. Cautiously, you cracked the door, hoping to get a peek before the surprise took over.

Nevada used both hands to shove the door the rest of the way open, sending you tumbling over your own feet and careening to the ground. You hit the floor on your ass, and cursed loudly when he stomped his way into the room. He laughed from above you, before offering a hand.

"Nevada, you're the worst, you don't just barge in like that-" Darling Valentina chastised roughly, bumping her brother with her hip before taking over the task of pulling you up from the ground. "Baby, surpriiiiiise!" She didn't even need to tug- you leapt to your feet upon realizing Natalia's sisters were the surprise guests.

"VALENTINA!" You squealed, enveloping her in a hug as she jumped in excitement. "Darling, I've missed you so, where have you been?" You pulled away, and held her face in your hands. She looked so lovely, they always did, but she had apparently died her dark curls a rich auburn color. It looked stunning.

Camilla came in after the others, arms crossed as she critically examined the apartment. "Natalia, have you baby proofed this place yet?" She tapped her toes on an unplugged light socket. The oldest of the sisters, and the only one with children of her own- Camilla certainly never worried about mincing words. Especially when it came to her incoming niece.

"Stop fussing," Natalia laughed, and threw her arms in the air. "Come love me, Camilla, I've missed you so!" Her sister obliged, crossing the room and biting her tongue so she could join Natalia on the couch.

"Jesus Christ," Nevada closed the door behind him, rolling his eyes as you all fussed over the other. "You two are never that happy to see me, where's love for Nevada?"

Everyone ignored him, and Valentina dragged you shamelessly behind her so you two could join her other sisters on the sofa. "Everywhere, honey, I've been traveling- you wouldn't believe what all's out there beyond The Heights," she began gently, flitting her fingers to signify all the flying and adventures she had been on. "But for now, I need to see that tummy-"

"Don't worry, girls-" Nevada hollered from the opposite end of the room. "I'll just help myself to the kitchen, I've only been running all morning to collect these two, I'm fine..."

"Natalia, raise your shirt," Camilla may have not known how Natalia loathed her belly being touched, but she definitely didn't care. Despite the annoyance, Natalia allowed it, and both sisters unblushingly landed hands on the swollen belly. "Oh honey, I'm so excited for you," Camilla kissed Nat's cheek and took a seat beside her.

"She's gonna be a big girl, Nat, such a healthy baby;" Valentina insisted, walking two fingers from the top of the swell to under her belly button. "You've been doing so well, you're glowing, Honey."

" _Your Name_  has been taking good care of me," Natalia nodded, and reached over to squeeze your shoulder. She could barely move with all the hands on her, but she wasn't exactly trying. "She's gonna be my nanny too, she's so wonderful- I'm so lucky to have her."

"I've fuckin' helped," Nevada shouted from the kitchen, and walked out from behind the wall with an apple in his hand. "You act like she does everything, I've helped." He sounded insolent, like a whiny child. "I'm the one who made you go to a doctor."

"Nevada, no!" You ripped yourself from Valentina and hastily went to snatch the fruit from his hand before he could take a bite. "I'm making a pie, you can't eat that." He let you take it, but not without glaring, and he swatted at your derriere when you walked past to return the apple to the kitchen.

"Ew," Camilla scrunched her nose as she watched the exchange. "Get a room." She hissed from her spot. Nevada motioned crudely with his middle finger, and she threw the closest thing she could find at him- a pillow.

"Leave them alone," Natalia insisted through her giggling. "They're always like that. What are you two doing here?"

"We wanna go to the ultrasound with you tomorrow," Valentina kissed at her stomach, and hummed a gentle lullaby against her skin.

Camilla nodded in agreeance, and clapped her hands together in excitement. "We wanna see her pretty little fingers and toes- maybe you'll even have her while we're in town!"

"She's still a little early," You joined the three other girls again, confident your apples would be safe for the pie you had been planning on. "Hopefully she'll keep cooking for at least another week."

"But for now-" Nevada cheered loudly, insisting on all attention to be back on him instead of his sister's belly. "We're gonna go eat, then I'm taking you two out to the club." He stood behind the couch, and pat the two visiting sisters on their heads. "So you girls can have some fun while we're here."

"Awe, you should take <i>Your Name</i> too!" Natalia chimed in, despite how your eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion. "I'll be fine, baby," she assured you while leaning over to kiss at your cheeks. "You should go have fun with Camilla and Valentina, I wanna go to bed early anyways."

"Oh please go with us!" Valentina finally separated herself from her littler sister's pregnant belly to encircle you with her arms. "We haven't gone out in forever, I wanna dance with you." She rocked you side to side, causing a fit of giggles to ignite between the two of you.

"If Nevada says I can," You twisted to peer up at him, and plumped your lips in a sad pout. "Nevada, pleeeaaaaseeee?"

"Yea, Vada, pleaaasseeeeee?" In unison, and he was out numbered, with four pairs of eyes and lips aimed his way. As if he would have refused you.

"Whatever, whatever. As long as she's a good girl." Nevada waved his hands and turned away from all of you, heading back to the kitchen in search of some sort of snack to munch on that wouldn't get him in trouble. "Let's just get going, I'm fucking starving."

\---

"You should kick his ass." Camilla advised before taking a generous sip of her drink. "I'd do it, but she's a child, I'd feel bad hitting her if she came at me."

"You act like I have a right," you grumped while swirling your drink. Nevada had run off with a blonde after about an hour of you four arriving, taken her into an alley behind the club. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what that meant.

"Aren't you basically his lady?" Valentina asked, running her fingertip along the rim of her wine glass. "I figured him telling you to be a 'good girl' implied that he needed to be good as well..."

They certainly had missed a lot of the dynamic between you two in the year or so they'd been away. "Nah, he always tells me that lately," you shrugged your shoulders. "I got into some shit and he helped me out, so now I gotta be a good girl."

"That's condescending," Camilla insisted, disgust obvious in her tone. "If he's gonna be a whore, you can at least dance," she scanned the floor that was illuminated with multicolored disco lights. You three had been dancing since you arrived, she figured it's about time to toss one of these boys into the mix. "There's some cute things over there, we'll get you with the biggest one." She wiggled her fingers over chin, and the referenced boys waved back.

"It's not a good idea," You advised knowingly. "He'll get shitty, Cammie."

"Why do you let him do that?" Valentina reached across and put her hands atop yours. "He's not your papi, _Your Name_ \- you don't gotta listen to everything he says."

Now it was painfully obvious they had been gone too long. "You two just don't understand."

"Oh no, I understand," Camilla shook her head before hitching her voice to tease you: "You're in looooove."

You crunched your nose in pure disgust. "Am not." You'd never admit to something like that, no matter how many people asked.

"Then go dance with that boy, come on." Bold Camilla rose to her feet, roughly grabbing hold of your arm to drag you over to the group of men she had been referring to earlier. "At least have some fun before you go back to being Mary fuckin Poppins for Natalia..."

\---

"What do you mean you LOST her?" Nevada had made his way back to the table, only to find his two sisters sitting alone. Without you. "I left you three alone for all of five minutes-"

"Try thirty, Nevada," Camilla bit back, shamelessly finishing the rest of her drink before shaking the glass so the ice cubes clicked against the sides. "You must have lost track of time when you had that puta on her knees out back." Valentina giggled from across the table, and tugged on the bottom of her brother's disheveled shirt, proving they knew what he had been up to.

He pulled the cup from Camilla's hands, slamming it on the counter top. Neither Ramirez flinched. "Did she SAY where she was going?" Smartly, he shifted his attention, from bold Camilla to the oddly silent Valentina. She had been staring into her drink, watching as the alcohol spun with the cranberry juice. "Oh Valentiiiinnnnaaaaaaaa," Nevada sang harshly, jabbing at her shoulder with two fingers until she finally lifted her eyes to his. "Where'd she go?"

Valentina went doe-eyed, and shot a look to Camilla, who shook her head side to side. Without meaning to, her stare bolted over towards where her sister had led you earlier, the small group of pale boys wearing polo shirts and checkered shorts. Nevada knew he had her- he immediately reached across to hold onto her chin, and carefully followed her eyes towards the direction she had been aimed. Camilla groaned and hid her face in her own hands.

"What the fuck?" He mumbled, before roughly releasing Valentina's face. "Stupid little girl, I swear-" Before he could storm off, Camilla wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

"Leave her be, you brute." She huffed in frustration. "You just got a blow job for buying a margarita; you can't seriously think you get to dictate who she dances with-"

Nevada shook her from his hand. "You don't get to decide how I handle my Niñita."

"Don't you see the problem with that?" Camilla rose to her feet. She wasn't as tall as Nevada, but being only two years shy of his maturity did make her bold. "She was sitting here like a sad puppy; either you be a good boy or you let her play. It's simple."

"You don't understand us-"

"Do YOU understand your 'us'?" Tipsy Valentina surprised the both of them, especially with her snarky use of air quotes. She rarely intervened where she didn't belong. "She surely doesn't."

"We're leaving." Nevada decided, laying the executive order down with no room for discussion. "I'm dropping you two off at the hotel then taking her back to my place, Natalia's already there."

"Is your little snow bunny coming?" Camilla teased, cocking her head to the side while trying to distract him. "Maybe she can ride in the back with _Your Name_ 's Daddy's boy." Nevada literally growled, and hit her shoulder with his as he strode past her. That absolutely was none of her business.

And neither were you.

\---

"What kind of chapstick do you use?"

Well, if that wasn't the oddest question a boy ever asked you. "Why?" You questioned with a perk of your eyebrow, while wriggling your hips in beat with the music. You loved this song.

"Curiosity," he pulled you closer with a large hand on the small of your back, and you giggled when you were brought up against his chest.

"Cherry," You shrugged, reaching up to lace your fingers behind his neck. He wasn't the handsomest of boys, you had certainly danced with better looking ones before- but he hadn't recognized you or Camilla when you two approached earlier. This was a new club, a new crowd, one you hadn't been to before.

"Cherry, really?" He tilted his head to the side, and smirked devilishly as you unblushingly pursed your lips up his way. "Sharing's caring, you know..."

"Wanta taaaste?" You sang teasingly, and your new friend nodded shamelessly. Before you could joke or deny him, his lips were pressed against yours, and he boldly pulled your bottom lip between his with a soft nip of his teeth to keep you in place.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your pout, but you were quickly interrupted when you felt hips grinding harshly against your back. Your boy's eyes widened and he released you from the kiss while simultaneously raising hands from your waist. It didn't take much guessing to assume who was behind you.

Possessively, Nevada wrapped an arm around your chest from behind, and waved the other boy off by wagging a finger in his face. "You're done, Sonny, move along." Knowing better than to test his kindness, the boy sauntered obediently off, and you elbowed Nevada in the stomach as soon as your new friend wandered out of eye sight.

He grunted while trying to catch his breath back, and jabbed you hard in the side with three stiff fingers as punishment. You yelped loudly, wincing and nearly falling into another dancing couple. He covered your mouth with a hand as you started to whine, and caught you with his other arm. “I thought I told you to be good?” His fingers went from covering your lips to pinching at the back of your neck.

“I thought you were busy fucking that blon-“ He tightened his grip on your neck and it made you cringe, sending fire and pain down your spine. The blonde was apparently not your concern. “Nevada, stop, that hurts,” you protested in a high-pitched whimper.

"Shut up, we're leaving." Nevada let you go once he was confident you wouldn't shout any more, and grabbed firm hold of your hips so he could guide you towards the exit. "The girls are waiting outside, hurry the fuck up."

\---

"How was your dance, _Your Name?_ ” Since he couldn't be too harsh, he decided taunting you would be the best route. Nevada couldn't do much else with his nosy sisters watching over you so carefully. "Did he tell you where he keeps his daddy's yacht?"

You scowled, what right did he have to be so upset? "Did you clean up your slut before leaving her out back?" Valentina giggled to the right of you, and Camilla tightened her grip on your knee to your left.

"Nah, Niñita," Nevada roared. "She cleaned me up." He made a crude slopping noise with his lips, and Camilla slapped at his shoulder with her clutch.

"You're disgusting, Vada," she informed him before wagging a finger at you- "And you're rude."

"You're the one who told me-" Camilla promptly covered your mouth with three warning fingers, not wanting to get dragged into the argument even if she had been the one to lead you there. You took the hint, and bit your tongue. You wouldn't throw her under the bus, as long as she didn't try to put you there again.

"Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you two?" Valentina leaned away from the chaos, resting the back of her head against the window. "You guys used to get along so well, now you two can't be left alone without going fucking locos." She twirled her fingers by her ears. "How the Hell does Natalia deal with you two?"

"Nevada's a whore." You answered the query with a shrug, and he glared at you from the rear view mirror. "Any and every problem is because he's a slut."

Nevada wouldn't take that lying down. "And she's a jealous, spoiled brat." He insisted. "A crazy fucking brat- have you told them about the Mercedes, _Your Name_?" He smirked cockily, and you kicked at the back of his seat.

"I have not, because it's irrelevant." You grumbled, and Camilla patted at your leg in hopes to hush you up. "And I am NOT jealous."

"Yes," Nevada nodded vehemently, "Oh yes you are."

"Please for the love of God; tell me the hotel isn't far." Camilla groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. You two were killing her buzz. "Can you two just get married or something? This is ridiculous."

"Don't worry, we're here-" Valentina confirmed while giggling as she saw the lights of the hotel coming up. "Will you two be able to make it back to Nevada's without killing each other?" She leaned over, placing a firm kiss on your cheek.

"Nevada," Camilla had already climbed out of the car once it was parked, and tapped at his window until he rolled it down. "Vada, can Tina and I borrow some cash?" She pouted, even though he was already fishing in his pockets for his wallet. "Just in case we get hungry or something, you kno-"

"Yea, yea, yea," He handed over some bills, and tapped at his cheek until she gave him a sweet peck of thanks. "I love you girls, you two be good." Valentina scurried out of the back seat so she could join her sister by his window, and she sweetly reached through to hug Nevada around the neck.

"You're gonna get us tomorrow, right?" She asked for reassurance, and Nevada nodded while patting her cheek. "We love you, Nevada."

"I love you girls." Nevada repeated himself, but he'd repeat himself over and over again for his sisters. They wandered towards the hotel after waving goodbye at you from your spot in the back seat, arm in arm and stepping at the same speed so they moved in unison. The inseperable Ramirez girls.

"Celooooosaaa Niñita," He sang teasingly from the front seat. "Niñita's celoooosaaaaa."

You just pressed your forehead against the cool window, and closed your eyes. Hopefully he'd grow bored of mocking you, and hopefully you could keep in your tears of frustration. He peered back at you through the rear view mirror, and frowned upon noticing that you didn't look like you were having fun anymore. Realizing you weren't responding, he chose to cease the jokes.

At least, until you two got back to the apartment.  
Then you were fair game.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *drags toes along the ground* uuuuhhhhhhh yea this is a lil' spicy, just a heads up.

Now that you two were alone, no nosy sisters or eavesdropping drivers, Nevada decided to have some fun with you again. After all, there were a few flights of stairs before you got to his apartment. “You’re jealous,” he accused bluntly, smiling ear to ear as he did so. 

“Shut the fuck up, Nevada,” you had been giving him the silent treatment ever since his sisters left you in the car with him. It was hard, you were just drunk enough to struggle biting your tongue. Better silence than words that would only get you in trouble. 

Nevada snuck up behind you, placing hands on your hips before you slapped at them to get him off of you. “You’re jealous.” He repeated over the crack of your smacking. “Just admit it,” He pulled at the strap of your purse, which you tore away from his reach. Why was he acting like this? Was he high? 

“Stop playing,” you grumpily ran up the first flight of stairs the best you could despite your heels. “Natalia’s probably waiting up.” Unfortunately, you stumbled, and twisted to sit at the top of the steps so you could use the banister to pull yourself up. 

Methodically, he stalked up behind you, letting you stand before quickening his pace. “Just say it-” here came the high pitched bubblegum tone again, “Nevada, estoy celosa, lo siento Papi.” 

You spun, wagging a daring finger in his face. He was still a few steps behind, allowing you the rare opportunity to be taller. “I’d never call you Papi.” Taunting him, you drew an invisible line with that fingertip from his nose, over his lips, and to his chest- so you could prod hard at his sternum with three fingers before turning to walk away again. He chuckled while catching his balance. “And if I recall, YOU are the KING of jealousy; that’s why you didn't like when I let that boy taste my chapsti-”

Nevada gladly interrupted so he wouldn't have to relive the situation: “So you ARE jealous.” He laughed aloud, ignoring your accusation, and ran along behind you like a dog begging for a bone. “Just tell me-“ He tried again to grab at your waist, but you hopped to stay just out of reach. You mentally prepared for the high pitched mockery as he sang: "~Nevada, I’m jealous of the little honeys you woo so well.~” 

Frustrated, finally to the point of breaking, you snatched your purse up in your hand and hit him in the chest with it. The surprise impact nearly sent him backwards down the steps. "What the fuck do you care, Nevada?” You hissed, spitting immaturely at his shoes. “What do you care what I think, you’ve never cared what I think.” 

He stole the purse from you, saving himself from any more assaults. “Just say it,” he continued teasing you while joining you on the landing and using a hand placed stiffly on your chest to shove you back until you hit a wall with your shoulder blades. “C'mon, you can tell me aaaaaanything-” You could smell the liquor on his breath, and you wished you hadn't drank so much. You needed to think now more than you likely ever had to before, and you couldn’t come up with a defense. 

“FINE,” you whined, hoping he’d just let you be and let you go to the apartment in peace if you gave him what he wanted. “I’m jealous,” you finally whispered, then feigned a head-butt in hopes it’d convince him to back off. 

It didn’t, of course. “Excuse me, what was that?” He placed his right arm on the wall beside your head, and cupped his left hand around his ear. “I didn’t hear you, louder Niñita.” 

Your nostrils flared, and you slammed your palm against his chest- it felt good to hit him, even if it had no real impact. If this was the floodgate he wanted opened, you might as well spill. “I’m jealous! I’m jealous, I’m jealous, I’m jealous!” He laughed at first, before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Angry tears came; you couldn’t believe you were admitting this to him. And on top of it, he was mocking you. This was Hell, and he was the Devil- you were a Sinner paying for your impure heart. “I’m jealous of all those stupid whores you dance with,” your palms smacked at him again, “I’m jealous of that old bitch you sleep with, that stupid lady.” 

You couldn’t hold them back anymore. Not the words, not your crying; It was time for the truth. The way his smile drooped infuriated you- this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? You to come unglued? “I’m jealous of that stupid blonde puta you took into the alley tonight, and you’re a stupid man for that-“ he took your hits with no sign of retaliation, and it made you angrier. Was he really enjoying this? "I’m jealous of-”

Before you could go on, his hand curled gently around the front of your throat. He didn’t apply pressure, though you flinched in expectation, and instead used the well placed grip to pull you up and closer. He kissed you, urgently, and you sighed into his mouth the moment he broke it. 

That was too easy. 

"But YOU are the worst,” You finally broke what could have been a sweet silence, but that would have just been you falling for the bait. “When I’m jealous, I leave you alone.” His fingers tightened against your skin and you gasped in case he chose to cut off your air. “When you’re jealous, you scare the poor boys.” You could feel him snicker against your lips; he still hadn't removed himself from you. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t play with boys anymore,” He bowed his chin to kiss at the soft skin of your neck, just under your ear lobe. Your thoughts went hazy. “Maybe you should try to play with a real man.” Nevada stepped closer, until his body tapped at your hips so you'd be convinced to back up flush against the wall. 

“Find me one, then,” you smiled at the subtle wit, but he growled, and you couldn’t gauge his reaction with his face hidden. 

“Stay in my room tonight,” he ordered boldly, the hand not on your throat suggestively slithering down the side of your dress until he could hike your skirt just enough to skim the soft skin on your thighs. His fingers drew little circles, but you thought they were setting you on fire. “C'mon, you don’t need to be jealous." Nevada was whispering now, and he bit at your earlobe to make you sigh. "I’ve got you…”

“You don’t got me,” You taunted, though your knees went weak. “I’m not gonna be your one night stand, Nevada.” Your words said no, but your voice suggested otherwise, and you wrapped your fingers in his hair to try and keep his lips from traveling any further downward. It didn’t work, he didn't even pretend to mind you pulling at him. 

“Then stay tomorrow, too,” at that, you froze solid, he was either very desperate or this was turning very odd. “And the next night,” he leaned in further, to leave little bites and kisses along your collarbone, marking his territory with a constellation of blue and black. “And the next night-”

Too much, too soon. It felt like a trap, and you wouldn't be caught- you were not going to be the fox. You shoved him away, and scowled at his satisfied grin. “This isn’t fun anymore,” You whined, feeling your heart skip beats as his cocky facade began to fade. “It isn’t funny, Nevada, I don’t want to play anymore.” 

His turn to be confused, it was painted plainly across his face. “Play what?” He asked surprisingly gently, which lit your flame of rage even further. He should know, you two have been at this for years- or has it really only been you the whole time? The thought made you embarrassed, made you feel silly. 

“Your game!” Your heel stomping onto the hardwood sent a 'ping’ resounding through the hall. “This game, you’re playing with me, it’s not fun anymore.” 

You expected to get pinned again, or possibly for him to shout at you- but in a surprise act, he didn’t. Nevada wilted, and straightened his jacket on his shoulders. “I’m not playing any games, niñit-”

“Don’t call me that.” Your lip trembled; you thought you were going to cry. 

He snarled, this was harder than he ever thought it would be. “ _Your Name_ ” He spoke softly, scarily so. Patiently, trying to reason with you. “I’m not playing with you. No games, no tricks.” Nevada reached for you, subtly, and you dramatically jumped to stay away from him. He recoiled harshly. 

“Don’t say shit like that, Vada.” You insisted gruffly, and again turned to finish the walk to the apartment door. “You ruin it.” 

He grabbed for your wrist, desperately. “I’m not fucking playing.” Pulling on you, he tried again to appeal. "Stop walking away from me, for fucking once-"

You tried to pull your hand away from him, but he tangled his fingers between yours. What was he planning? “What do you want from me?” Since he wouldn't free you, you approached him as he had done to you so often before, bumping your chest against his in a futile attempt to be intimidating. “I always, only do what you tell me." He backed away in spite of himself, and still let you speak. "I can’t read your twisted mind, Nevada, you’re fucking loco.” 

This was where you were going with this conversation? Perfect, Nevada was more than willing to tell you all about what he wanted from you. “I want you to stop fucking around with stupid boys," He used his free hand to hold up a finger- indicating 'one'. You flinched upon realizing there would be more. "To stop being spoiled and to stop pouting.” He poked at your mouth, flipping your bottom lip with his fingertip. “I want you to stop flirting with every little niño who so much as looks at you-”

The neighbors, the time; suddenly none of it mattered, and your voice rose loud enough to wake the dead. “I’m not YOURS, Nevada!” You tossed your hand in the air and his traveled with it. “You don’t get to decide those things when you’ve got a slut on her knees every corner you turn.” 

Nevada flinched, actually faltered- that felt like a cannon had hit him in the chest. “You are mine," He felt like he was arguing with Camilla again, you were rarely this angry with him, or this bold. "And fuck those women, I'm a goddamn man, I have needs and I get them handled." He didn't give a shit about any of those girls, but he certainly would not go celibate just because he couldn't have you. 

“No!” You were ready to argue this point; it was one you had considered over and over again in the dark of night when his necklace lay over your heart. “No, I’ve been your NIÑITA. And you’ve treated me like a niñita.” He stepped closer, hoping you'd be convinced to stop shouting if he could at least prove he was listening, truly listening. It worked, mildly, "I'm a woman, Nevada." You brought your hands to your chest, bringing his with you, and your voice caught in your throat when you tried to be reasonable: "You just refuse to treat me like one." 

The pause; you both stood at a stalemate. A woman. He knew you were a woman, but that was the whole problem. Nevada had cared for you, watched over you, adored you for so incredibly long. You interrupted his contemplation, “I’m not playing this game anymore if it’s never going to end,” you whispered this, granting his wish for lowered tones, but you were almost embarrassed to even suggest it. 

Nevada groaned, and put his hands on the back of his neck as you watched him expectantly- no, relentlessly. He hadn't thought this to go so far, to reach a boiling point. Yet here he was, glaring at you, and thinking back to all the times he had skipped this chance. Every quiet night where you were being sweet instead of loud, every car ride when you would laugh with him instead of cry, every time you sat close enough for him to smell your perfume, every time you lay across his lap. There had been so many opportunities- and he had squashed each one. Obliterated them, jumped out of their way. 

What was he afraid of? Nothing, fucking nothing- Nevada Ramirez wasn't afraid of anything... except hearing the truth from you. It was getting dangerously close; the revelation that his inconsistency was perceived as a game made every inch of his skin go cold. This was not a game to him, you were definitely not a game to him. 

“Fine.” Nevada threw his hands high in the air, ready to settle this once and for all. The time has finally come. “Fine, fuck this,” he frowned, and for a second, you thought you saw the Nevada you grew up with. Vulnerable, big-hearted, forever caring and watchful Vada. The one who sat with you on the steps at his mother's apartment, who consoled all your cry baby tears and worked behind the scenes to make the reason for them regret it, who told you how magnificent you were whenever you doubted it. “I want YOU, _Your Name_.” His lip curled, “and I don’t want you with any other stupid fucking boys.” 

Your turn to be shocked. Your stare narrowed, and you searched his face for nearly any sign of... well, anything. An emotion, a tear, an ounce of longing, sincerity. You wouldn’t receive such a blessing from the statuesque man, especially with his guard so high up. You couldn't imagine that he'd be nervous about how you felt, it never really seemed as if it mattered how you felt. He was Nevada Ramirez, Trujillo, and the way he didn’t falter through such a confession made you afraid. Too afraid to leave yourself open. “Fuck you, Nevada,” You concluded that he must be playing a sick, sick joke on you. “You’re the worst, and I hate you.” 

“You really feel that way?” Nevada asked through his trembling lip, in a tone of voice you hadn’t heard in years. It brought you barreling back to reality, off your high of rage and taunting. Your jaw fell open, more surprised by the look in his eyes than you had been by the subject matter. It was almost as if you had hurt him- YOU, hurt Nevada Ramirez? Oh Jesus Christ, were you wrong? “You really don’t…” And there it was, the sadness, the cold crumble of his poker face. If he had just shown that a second earlier, oh no- “Fuck, fuck me.” Nevada kicked at the banister, three times, rattling the rails and making you tremble. “Fuck it, _Your Name_.” He strode past you, leaving you behind as he went to work unlocking the door. A pang of guilt came over you- was he actually serious? And you had shrugged him off, said you hated him? 

Who was the brute now? 

“… Vada?” You whispered gently, but he ignored you. Cautiously, in case you’d incite his anger, you curled your arms around his chest from behind, and pressed yourself against his back. He stopped fidgeting with the door, and instead laid a hand atop of yours where they met. “Nevada, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry-”

“Now who’s playing?” He opened the door, and used his hand to break yours apart so he could walk in without you hanging from him. You both sauntered into the dark apartment, Natalia must already be asleep. “Go to bed,” he ordered authoritatively as if you were a teenager up past curfew. 

The conversation from minutes before was still prominent in your thoughts. “With you?” After you asked, even in the darkness, you could see his shoulders fall. Was this his version of vulnerability? Had you broken through the Trujillo shell? 

“Don’t do that,” He was hushed yet serious, trying not to wake up Natalia while also admonishing your behavior. “You’re being the asshole now,” he put his palm against your shoulder to force you to stay at arm's length away from him. “I tried that already.” Nevada needed to protect himself; you had already torn him down when he showed a weak spot. The tables had turned. 

Stubbornly, you grabbed for his hand, and he made a good attempt to shake you off, nearly sending both of you tripping over the edge of the sofa- until you pulled yourself in. Now coiled around his arm, the only way to rid himself of you would have been to pry you away. Instead, he took firm hold of your face, and manipulated your chin so you had to stare up into those green eyes. They shone despite the dim illumination. 

Suddenly, Nevada sounded tired. Exhausted, or exasperated- out of breath and patience. “What do you want?” You could practically taste him from your spot beneath his face. “I’ve been honest tonight,” Nevada nodded knowingly as he relayed the truth, “and you’re being spoiled.” He said it as if you were rotten. 

“You, Nevada.” It was hard to speak with his forefinger and thumb digging at your cheeks. “Please,” he loosened his hold just enough so you could easily talk again, though you thought you’d swallow your own tongue as your nerves bellowed in your throat- “can I go to bed with you?” 

It was music to his ears, but he didn’t answer at first. In fact, he left you waiting and gazing up at him for at least 30 seconds. You started to think you were a fool; he was going to dismiss you just like he had done when you had practically begged for him those months ago. This was a mistake, he was playing his game, and he just wanted to watch you wallow in your own pity-

“Si,” Nevada interrupted your sad thoughts, and your eyebrows wriggled in surprise. Both of you were in a new situation, one you two hadn't reached with the other before. “Say you want to,” he added cynically, and you could see that familiar smile even in the dark. “Say you want to go to bed with me.” 

You swallowed; your pride and the hot, nervous metallic taste on the back of your tongue. Out in the hallway, he had given you more of himself than he likely ever had before. You could give him this. “Nevada,” at the mention of his name, his hand went from your face to your throat, and you did your best not to shiver. “I want to go to bed with you.” 

That was all he needed.  
That was plenty permission. 

Like an impromptu ballet, his steps forward moved you back. You had expected him to be rough; to pull, to bite, to choke. To the contrary, his hold on your throat was used to guide in lieu of instruct, and his lips came to yours sincerely, softly. It was surprising and nice, and you couldn’t think of a time you’d ever imagined he could be so gentle. You kicked off your shoes, lowering your stature a few inches, and raising his hand from your neck to your jaw. The kiss never disconnected- not when his free hand pushed at your hip to convince you to move faster, not when the fingers moved from beneath your chin to the back of your head. You weren’t sure how to react to this; not only had you never thought the game would get this far, but you were accustomed to being on the defense, on edge. Suspicious. Did the rules change, or was this a new stage? Were you even playing anymore? 

Quickly, you went to shrugging his jacket from his shoulders- the act he had refused when you begged for him so long ago. He grunted against your mouth, but obliged, momentarily taking all hands off of you to let the leather drop to the floor. And to his dress shirt, purple and wrinkled, you worked expertly at unlooping each little opal colored button. Lost in concentration and his tongue slipping across your lip, your back ramming into his bedroom door had taken you be surprise. 

Nevada lingered, you managed to catch your balance when your shoulder blades and spine reclined against the wood. This gave you time to finish the arduous opening of his shirt, your cool hands slithered through the loosened material to smooth along his chest. Since you had brought the idea to light, he took advantage, and pushed your arms off of his skin so he could rip at the thin straps of your top until they finally slid over your fingertips. The little dress slid easily from your frame and pooled at your feet- you went to step out of it, but Nevada provided assistance. The moment your leg lifted, his hands flew smartly to your thighs, and he hoisted you upwards until you could hook your ankles behind him and perch yourself at his waist. An arm went to the small of your back, the other went to fumbling blindly with the door handle. 

“Anytime now,” you teased as he struggled between holding you up and finding the knob. Nevada growled, bowing to suck along your collarbone while you scraped your fingertips on his scalp. The entrance finally opened, and you could feel his lips curl against your skin. He easily carried you the short distance to the bed and dropped you atop the dark sheets. You landed with a huff, but before you could catch your breath, Nevada was on you again. 

Determined to not be the only one bare and vulnerable, you allowed him to crawl his way over top of you, but your hands smoothed over his belly and down to his belt. You worked to loosen the strap, and he explored- mapping out your body like a cartographer does geography, embarking on the epic journey he had only dreamed of until this moment. His nails raised reddened paths along your dips and valleys; the adventure down your back from the base of your neck to the top of your lace panties took his breath away, and he took his time on the detour by his thumbs over the swells of where the silk top of your bra met your breasts. And then, the triumphant conclusion, he easily unclipped the front clasp and the lingerie dropped uselessly to either side of you. His belt was undone, and he forced you to pause in your pursuit so he could pull the straps of your bra down your arms. Both damning distractions were discarded before another kiss ensued. 

Be it craze or longing, the soft touches were growing increasingly intense. More familiar. You moaned before pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth, and his thumbs rolled rough circles over your exposed, perked nipples. Your back arched involuntarily, and your soft belly pressed against his; he broke the kiss and held the back of your head up with one hand. 

“Say you want me,” he ordered hoarsely, and you shook your head the best you could considering the circumstances. 

“Lose the jeans,” you attempted to speak with power, but the air was gone from your lungs. “Don’t trick me.” 

He scowled, you could barely see it but you felt him tense everywhere he was against you. “I said there’s no tricks,” he mumbled before dropping your head against the pillows as he went to place nips and kisses down your chest. 

Your eyelids fluttered, thighs slipping up from the denim and to the bare skin of his waist as he moved further south. “You’ve tricked me before,” you taunted mindlessly- he bit hard at the soft swell of your left breast as punishment. You whined aloud and his fingers tightened at your hips, pinching the skin against the mountain tops of your bones. 

Nevada finally did as you requested, not sure what exactly had convinced him to give in. His jeans were kicked off, and you slid your smooth legs along his in gratitude. “Now say it,” he re-ordered, face slipping lower after he flicked the end of his tongue against your hard nipples, just enough to leave them glistening and cold. Just enough to make you squirm. 

“Oh, Nevada-” his name sent a fire down your spine, or was it his hot breath as he exhaled against the skin on your stomach? Not sure, but you tangled your fingers in his hair when his chin reached the top of your underwear. 

“C'mon,” he chuckled from his spot, and you could feel his fingertips tracing the familiar circles against the inside of your thighs, the top of the known shapes skimmed teasingly against the elastic concealing your sex. 

Your hips bucked at his touch, and he smiled as he slid his fingers inside the top of the lace against your pelvis, just past the first knuckle, so he could curl his hand and the ball of his palm pressed against your most sensitive place. “Or I stop.” 

The threat was too real, too much like him. “Nevada, please,” his tongue drew a river along the edge of the barrier provided by your panties, and he gave a firm tug on the lace so it pulled away. The cool air hit your hidden garden, and you whimpered into the night. 

“Nevada, I need you;” you managed from deep in your chest. That wasn’t quite what he had asked for, but it would absolutely work. One, two, three fingers slung through the crotch of the lace so he could take seconds to remove them with a sharp tug down your legs. 

“Oh do you?” He prompted proudly, and stood before you on his knees. Too long had he imagined this, too long had he wondered what he'd find under those slinky dresses and cute skirts. The cold was suddenly too noticeable when he wasn’t pressing you into the sheets under his weight, your goosebumps pricked to attention all over. His green eyes drinking you in from his obviously supreme position above felt damn near glamorous- dangerous and lovely. The devilish grin fell from his face, he almost looked dazed, bewildered. You grew suspicious, fingers gripping fistfuls of his sheets as you propped yourself up on your elbows. 

“What’s wrong?” You whispered naively, confused regarding the sudden pause in the festivities. He twitched, as if you speaking broke the spell, brought him back from his set gaze of reverence. 

Realizing he at least needed to answer you, he mumbled under his breath; “You’re beautiful.” His oddly placed surprise mimicked yours, and you stared at the other for moments that felt like hours. Two paintings, poised on opposite ends of the great Art Museums you never attended; intended for different exhibits yet forced to only stare at the other over the years, unable to exist together. But now the art came to life and the barrier had been brought crashing down. 

You wanted him. You needed him, this. It was validation and success all wrapped into one convenient package. 

“Nevada,” you begged, pushing yourself upwards and shifting so you sat beneath him. He remained uncharacteristically paralyzed as you pressed your lips against his stomach, just beneath his belly button. You felt him shiver under your palms when your fingertips ran along the band of his dark boxers. He exhaled, audibly, and reached down to cup your face with a large hand. 

Nevada’s thumb hooked into your mouth, pressing against your bottom teeth to keep your jaw open and your face at the mercy of his manipulation. “You gonna be my good girl, _Your Name_?” His tone was odd, almost desperate, pleading. What a funny time to be unsure, or begging. “Only mine?” His other fingers curled against the softness under your chin, and he craned your neck to look up at him. 

You nodded, the best you could with his hand holding your head just so. He bit his lip as he smiled, and the corners of yours turned up as well, as much as possible. If he wanted you to be his, 'only’ his- that was doable. If he planned on playing nice, too. 

Knocking interrupted the both of you- rapid, persistent knocking that demanded your attention despite how occupied it already was. “WHAT?” Nevada bellowed at the door, before cursing under his breath as you scurried to hide yourself under his blankets. Things hadn’t even gotten good yet, and already there was an intrusion. “WHAT IS IT?” He tugged on the comforter, trying to reveal you once more, but you stubbornly kept it up. 

“Va, Va, Vada…” It was Natalia, and the way she stuttered made both of your hearts drop. “Vada, I dunno where _Your Name_ is, and I think I’m having contrac-“ she winced and shouted gruffly while leaning her head against the door frame. “Nevada open the goddamn door, you fucker.” 

That was more than enough to convince both of you to hop off of the mattress. The game wasn’t important anymore- Natalia was always everything. Nevada still had boxers on so he was first to the door, and threw it open despite the fact that you had only managed to tug on your underwear at that point. “Nat-” He was cut off when he saw her face, red and teary, and her arms wrapped around her own belly. She noticed someone in the background and shouldered past him to insist they go… until she realized it was you, tugging your dress on over your head. 

“Oh God,” she flinched as the pain grew through her back, and grabbed at her stomach while Nevada wrapped his arms under hers to keep her standing. “I have so many questions but I really don’t give a fuck right now, what the fuck you two?” Natalia moaned, and leaned into Nevada’s hold until you were at least mostly dressed. Another contraction overtook her and she wailed. 

“Get her,” Nevada shouted over at you, and you eagerly took over being her resting post. He disappeared back into the darkness of his room, and you pulled on Natalia until you managed to get her to walk to the couch. She placed her hands against the top of it, and you went to rubbing her back in the spots the baby books had prescribed. You had taken Nanny-Duty very seriously, studying the books you had bought her from cover to cover. 

“Breathe, Nat, breathe baby.” You were whispering, hoping to keep her as calm as possible. She did her best, aside from some whimpering and a couple hearty gasps. “Try to keep your mind off of it, Vada’s gonna get us to the hospital.” 

“Keep my mind off of it?” She laughed, almost maniacally, you couldn’t really blame her. It did scare you, though- and you were never scared of Natalia. “Okay, perfect, great idea-“ Her eyes went wide and she gripped onto your hand until your fingers went numb. “Why the fuck were you in Nevada’s room?” 

“Okay, different topic,” You bounced off of her bad attitude, leaning in to kiss her cheek and wipe some of the hair off of her sweaty forehead. “Baby do you need anything? Do you have a bag packed?” 

“Mhmmmmmmm,” She groaned through a contraction, and her grip moved to your arm. “Mhmmmm in the closet.” You darted, welcoming the distraction. By the time you were back with the suitcase, Nevada was already at her side, slipping one arm under hers and using the other to call one of his men. 

“C'mon, Niñita,” Nevada grunted while trying to balance his wilting sister and the cell phone, “any time now…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides* don't hate me.


	27. Chapter 27

You sat at her side, diligently fishing out ice cubes from a little cup a nurse had handed you. Some for her face, to drag along her reddened skin. A few for her lips, so she could chew on them until they turned into water. She wasn't allowed to eat anything- you thought it was silly, but they assured you the restriction had purpose. There were nail marks and indian burns decorating your arms, she had clung to you the entire ride to the hospital. “Just breathe, Nat, we’re where we need to be-” you reassured her as she airily giggled to herself. Thank god the meds were starting to work, she had been so scared earlier.

Her brother was not so calm. “Shouldn’t someone fuckin’ be here?” Nevada grumbled, apparently distraught that the nurses had left. You three had been left alone in the room after the doctor confirmed her water broke- they wanted to see if sweet little Lillian would grace everyone with her presence willingly. “They just shoot you up with shit and leave?” Thankfully, you had read the books and studied the subject. Poor Nevada was in the dark.

“It was an epidural,” you spoke calmly in hopes it would help soothe the mother-to-be as well, even through a smile while Natalia gripped your hand hard enough to make you wince. “She’s gonna be fine, Nevada.” Your eyes remained on your frightened friend. Sweet Natalia, oh how you loved her- she was being so brave, so strong...

“How will they know if something goes wrong?” Your reverence was interrupted by mouthy Nevada, and you grunted to show your disapproval. Obviously, you and Natalia were trying not to think about the negatives. Hoping to stay positive. He was really ruining that.

“Get him the fuck out of here,” Natalia grumped seriously, and you wilted a bit while whining. Her nails dug into your skin, made you flinch. “He’s stressing me out, get him out-” Pregnant women were terrifying.

He was listening. “Like I’m gonna fuckin' leave-” He hissed angrily, shaking his head to show exactly how much he disagreed.

Time to switch roles, to get the job done. You rose from your spot while Natalia reposed, taking the opportunity to rest while she could. The baby should be coming any time, and if not on her own- she'd be coaxed with drugs. You wanted her to be calm, to relax. “Nevada, hey," You slunk his way and hugged your arms innocently around his chest. He remained frozen, but mumbled to himself before kissing the top of your head. Apparently he was still feeling sweet from your earlier... experience. "Let’s give her a break,” you wriggled while suggesting it. "I saw coffee in the waiting room, let's go check it out, call the girls." His hand slid to the small of your back.

He glared. Natalia's eyes rolled. You wriggled again in hopes of enticing him. "Fine," Nevada finally conceded, and let you steer him towards the door leading to the hallway. "Quick coffee trip, then we come back." You heard your sweet friend sigh in relief as you two left her alone.

\---

“Nevada, I cannot focus on you right now.” You pushed him off of you when he went to kiss at your face after coiling his arms around your waist from behind. What was he thinking? There wasn’t any time for this right now, no games. “Please just get some coffee, sober up a bit, I know I need to.” The coffee was off in a quiet corner, even the hospital was relatively empty considering the obscene hour you all were here. Thank God for hospitality coordinators. He didn’t take the rejection very well.

“You are so full of shit,” Nevada complained in a whisper, and you pretended to ignore him while you added sugar to the cup you held. “You are not going to convince me that all of that shit was because of the drinks you had.” To add insult to injury, he pulled up his mental file of blackmail- "After everything I've done for you..."

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to portray your annoyance via feigned headache. “Nevada, stop, now is not the time to talk about thaaat-“ You took a drink of the warm coffee and smirked, thank God for caffeine, "or us.”

He was leaned back against the wall. You held an empty cup out towards him so he could get a drink for himself, trying again to lighten the mood. Nevada childishly smacked at the top of the styrofoam, causing the cup to tumble out of your hands and to the floor, all while holding eye contact with you. Asshole. And that was why you hadn’t filled it for him. “If you’re saying ‘us’,” He aimed a finger at your face, waving it as if he were teaching Calculus instead of life; “then there’s something to talk about.”

“I didn’t say there wasn’t.” You stepped backwards, carefully away from him, while taking a drink of your own coffee. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, between the bags under his eyes and the already unpredictable evening. Plus, there was a chance he was still drunk. “I just said not now, Nevada.” You didn't want to waver, to let him think he was stronger than your will.

“Don’t forget what you said.” He followed close behind, you could feel him breathing on the back of your neck. It was horribly distracting. “I said only mine-”

Your frustration spoke for you: “I didn’t say a goddamn thing.” It was too easy to taunt him, more familiar and comfortable. His green glare quickly made you regret your spiced insult. You sincerely thought he was going to slap you, right there in front of the nurses station with a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hands. Instead, he faded, and shook his head while muttering insults to himself under his breath. He looked so tired, worn out, part of you thought you should coddle him instead of snip. Your sweet friend, dear Nevada-

“You are a horrible bitch.” He fussed, just loud enough for you to hear. Your eyes widened at the words. “I dropped my guard, I told you-” Nevada’s voice cracked, this was hard. So hard. He’s done some awful things in his life, but this made him cringe, made him feel weak. Being honest, sincere, telling you what he felt. Fucking feelings, they complicate everything. “I told you so much," Was he crying? "-and you’re really just going to act like nothing happened?”

It was difficult seeing him like this, but you couldn’t worry about him right now. You were about to get your God Baby, your precious angel. He’d be fine, he’d have to- you needed to get back to Natalia. “Don’t pretend you really care or some shit,” You sassily pat at his cheek, as he had done to you so many times before. A futile attempt to lighten the mood, and show you weren't that foolish. “That happened and that’s fine and you’ll just act like it never did-” that's how he's handled any other time.

Nevada chuckled sadly, finally ready to wave the white flag. You thought your heart broke when you saw a single, solitary soldier tear fall from those puppy dog eyes. “You’re wrong,” he advised simply, frighteningly sincerely. It felt like your prom all over again, when you left him to ride home with a stupid boy who didn’t know his place; like the times you’d run off to dance with the younger men at the clubs while he sat back and watched from the VIP foyer; like the time he had to see Gerald escort you into his apartment with his hand on your hip while he had to drive away... all at once. It was hard- so hard, and it hurt real bad, and Nevada didn’t hurt like that. Trujillo didn’t, at least, but Trujillo had been distracted. By your pout, by your smell, by your words. “You’re very, very wrong,” he added in a low growl, despite his quivering chin. “You’re so fucking wrong, I lov-” He interrupted himself at the phrase he hadn’t known was coming, he had barely been able to think, and he blinked quickly as he tried to process the words.

The coffee you had been so concerned about slipped from your fingers, and spilled all over your shoes and the bottom of his pants. Neither of you so much as flinched, it wasn’t important. “L- Love?" Clarification was necessary, "Love?” You whispered it, afraid to say it too loudly- that would break the spell.

Unable to stand the doe-eyed look on your face, he boldly moved along, ramming his shoulder into yours so roughly you had to grip onto the counter of the nurse's station to keep from falling. They remained stoically silent, but gave you gazes of sympathy. You didn't need or want anything else from them. They were doing plenty just being the angels they were- they had illness, new babies, death lining their halls. Your heart was not on their radar, and the coffee would be mopped up by the sweet man who wandered the hospital with a mop and rolling bucket. For once, Nevada didn't matter- there were floors of innocents suffering beneath your feet. They didn't care and it was rejuvenating, so you went to chase him. You cared, even if you were the only one.

There was a ringing, interrupting your quest. You jumped and the nurses ignored the spilled coffee while they rushed past you- how did they catch up so quick? Before you could even consider the miracle, you noticed them trotting diligently into Natalia's room. She must have pressed THE button, felt a bad pain- oh dear Lord, was your sweet Lillian coming?

\---

They refused to let him in. Trujillo had been shoved out of the room by three pairs of hands the moment he started cursing at a doctor for not doing what he thought the man in scrubs should have. What did he know? Nothing. He knew nothing about birthing babies, but he hated how Natalia wailed. Nevada had waited outside the door when they locked him out, back leaned against the wall so he could face the divider between him and his girls. His precious, lovely girls; soon to be all three of you. It had been relatively quiet, aside from some shouting he could recognize as his sister's and the instructive tones of the doctor. Breathe, Push, Breathe, Rest, Push, Rest- he was dizzy.

It was when three different people in scrubs rushed by him, dragging a cart with what appeared to be a clear case atop it, that he lost his composure again. "What’s that?” He asked quickly, when one of the men went to turn the handle of Natalia’s door after knowingly tapping out a show tune against the door. “What is that- what’s that for?” Fear was obvious in his tone.

“Are you the father?” A nurse, a new girl to the area, asked indignantly. Nevada’s face shifted, anger apparent, and her eyes went wide- that was a stupid question, even though she wasn’t sure why, and she suddenly regretted it.

One of the doctors came to her aid, someone from the same graduating class as him, he recognized the voice as a boy who used to do his homework for him high school. It was oddly reassuring. “Mr. Ramirez, we can’t explain, there’s no time-”

Nevada was getting real tired of everyone choosing not to answer his questions. “What the fuck is that for-” He huffed and tried to rush the door when the little nurse pulled the cart in. Shouting, you whimpering, and muffled gasps assaulted his ears. He went pale, and a larger doctor diligently went to do his best to keep him against the opposite wall.

“Mr. Ramirez, you need to let us do our job,” The doctor he remembered was stern, stern enough to make his heart drop. “Nevada- the baby needs help, you can’t get in the way.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Surprisingly, he didn’t fight, but he gripped onto the neck of those scrubs to prove his desperation.

“She’s early,” his complacency was rewarded with what he had been begging for- answers. “The cord was around her neck,” the doctor spoke as if he were reciting words from a play and Nevada's eyes were suddenly wet with tears. “Both are common issues," the reassurance was gifted to nearly deaf ears. "We just need to get her to NICU fast.”

Nevada released him, and held his hands high in the air. He wouldn't get in the way, he wouldn't be a problem, he wouldn't harass them any further. They were saving his dulce sobrina, he couldn't intervene. The mysterious cart and the three employees scurried in, and he covered his face with his hands while he slunk down the wall on his back. He sat on his ass, helpless, and with his palms pressed hard against his flushed cheeks. What was happening in there?

\---

You had climbed up into the bed with Natalia, who was still clammy and wet from the struggles of labor. Five active hours of pushing and pain had taken its toll on her, she shivered and wept into the scrubs the doctors had made you change into. Sanitation. You were singing to her, sweet and loving songs about hope and babies, between combing through her wet hair and kissing her cheek repeatedly. Lips pressed against her cold skin; over, and over, and over again. They wouldn’t let her touch Lillian, not yet- the poor babe didn’t even cry until they got the umbilical cord off of her neck. She was perfect, just so very small, she was a few weeks early and needed medical attention immediately. They had told you both that they’d help Natalia get to the NICU after Lillian was stabilized, but that was nearly an hour ago. Why hadn't they come back for her yet?

This was torture.

Nevada rushed into the room, and you were disappointed it wasn't an escort to the magical room they had stolen Lillian to- he had chased down the little case with the quiet cherub until they disappeared through the doors to the NICU. They wouldn’t let him in, but he tried for at least 45 minutes to convince them. Shouting, until an elderly lady reminded him that he'd be keeping the babies awake. He couldn't stomach staying there any longer after that.

“Girls-” He started to speak, but the look you shot him convinced him to stop. Whatever he had to say was not important, the silence was plenty. Nevada bit his lip before sitting on the end of the bed. Delicately, he lay across the foot of the mattress, and rest his head above the covers at Natalia's feet. You leaned down to pet at his hair, and he pressed his cheek into your palm.

For once- it was you. You were the strong one. Natalia was weak and Nevada was fragile- you were the one with the backbone, the spine, the pillar. It was time to pay back for all the strength and favors they had bestowed upon you. That which had earned you the spot you were in now. "Guys, it'll be okay, Ramirezs don't fuckin' hide from no one-" You insisted airily, and both of them gifted you with the sweetest sound you had ever heard; a chorus of sad-hearted chuckling. "She's got your blood, she's so strong, she couldn't wait for us or for rules," you choked up and laughed to hide your own fear. "She's here, babies, she's everything we knew she'd be- she's okay."

Natalia whimpered, and gripped onto your waist despite the IVs attached to the inside of her elbows. "I love you," she whispered honestly into your chest, and you kissed at her hair to show the feelings were reciprocal. Nevada's hands curled around your ankle the best the could through the sheets. Soon you all would get to meet Lillian, and all of this would be incredibly worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bunch'a baby stuff.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws cigars at everyone* AHH the story broke 100 Kudos, thank you guys SO STINKIN MUCH I can't stand it, I love ya'll *kisses every face*

“I need a minute,” Natalia whispered to you, and you nodded with your cheek pressed into her hair. The nurses were taking too long, and you had decided it was time to put the matter in your own hands. If you had learned anything from the Ramirezs- you’ve learned to get what you want and to not stop until you do. Between you and stubborn Nevada, you brought Natalia to the hall he had been standing outside of before making it back to her room: NICU. He took most of her weight, and you walked cautiously while dancing with the hooks holding her IVs.

Delicately, you helped her sit in a nearby rocking chair, and Nevada helped you scoot the wooden seat up until she could touch the clear case with her fingertips. “I need a minute…” she repeated mindlessly, and you nodded again. You kissed her temple, and ran your fingertips over the case the sweet little baby lay silently in.

Nevada couldn’t stomach staying in there with the quiet infant and his monotone sister, so he tore himself from the room. It was hard for you to pry yourself away, she was beautiful. Not quite stable, but alive and breathing- the little stickers on her chest connecting her to the monitors rose and fell in tune with her precious breathing. You’ve never been so happy to see pink skin move.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be right outside-” you whispered sincerely to your best friend, and hugged her around her shoulders as tight as you could. This was something you couldn’t imagine- if your sadness was so strong, fathoming the pain the mother felt was impossible.

“I need a minute.” Natalia responded quietly, and you tried to keep from crying. “Just a minute…”

You escorted yourself out, and shamelessly stood on the other side of the glass windows, peering in from the hallway. Naturally, you had been tearing up ever since the doctor gasped at first sight of Lillian. It wasn’t a gasp of reverence or joy- it was a moment of desperation. The doctor had immediately gone to pressing the red assistance button, and a nurse ran from the room before anyone even spoke. In the distance, you could hear Nevada shouting, but the case for the baby’s transfer to NICU was brought in instead of him. You had begged for them to explain, while Natalia clung hopelessly to your arm. Nobody obliged you until afterwards.

“ _Your Name_ -“ it was Nevada, but you still jumped and wailed when he surprised you from behind. All the tears you had been trying not to shed, the weak sadness you couldn’t let Natalia see, it all came when his hands landed on your shoulders. Your knees went frail- he recognized the telltale sign of you falling, so he quickly wrapped arms around your waist to keep you standing. “Honey, shh,” he couldn’t even shush you without choking on his own voice. You both fell together, against the wall you faced- you were kept up between his pressure and your hands planted against the glass. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and leaned his head against yours. The sight must have been pathetic: both of you entangled yet paying no mind to the other, all eyes hypnotized and locked on the mother-daughter duo on the other side of the glass. It was like a sick movie, watching it all unfold behind a screen.

“She’s gonna be okay,” you whispered finally, while staring longingly at your sweet Natalia slipping her hands into the gloves so she could touch Lillian’s precious little baby toes. “She’s just gonna need love, you know.“ You sniffled, but made no attempts to wipe away your tears. “Lots of careful love.”

“She’s got all the love in the world,” Nevada mumbled knowingly. You nodded with him, and he twisted just enough so he could innocently kiss at your cheek. Your statement from earlier made so much more sense now that Lillian was here- there was no time to talk about you and him. This wasn’t about him, for once, and he needed to accept it. He did. “Let’s go sit,” he suggested airily, finally pushing himself off the wall so you could breathe without his weight against you. “Let’s rest while they get acquainted.”

“I’m not leaving,” You insisted while rolling your face side to side against the glass, with no room for compromise. Nevada sighed out of frustration, and disappeared for a few minutes to explore. Finding an adequate solution, he took hold of a large seat and drug the damn thing from the waiting room to where you stood. The legs screeched against the tiles- but you didn’t tear your attention from the window and nobody dared to stop him.

Now that he found a chair, he pushed it your way until the back of your legs hit the seat. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to convince you unless you also got your way, he quickly climbed over the arm so he sat Indian-style atop the cushion behind you. Firm hands grabbed your hips, and he roughly tugged at you until you were perched in his lap instead of standing. He struggled, but managed to shift the chair in until it was flush against the wall and your knees rest against the plaster. It worked perfect, sitting atop his legs gave you just enough height so you could rest your chin on the windowsill. Nevada didn’t chastise you for snooping, or for ignoring him- and instead wrapped his arms around you so he could lay his face against your back. “I’m not leaving either, then…” His hands went up your chest so both palms could stack atop your beating heart.

\---

Her minute turned into an hour, and then tumbled into two. You had tried to stay up and alert, but sometime between you sitting and her reappearance, you had leaned back into your seat- sleep overcame you. Natalia finally came from the room to find you and Nevada in the chair he had stolen, flush against the wall and facing into the window so you had a perfect view of Lillian’s crib and the rocker she had been resting in. She smiled sadly at her sleeping family; despite the circumstances, this made her heart soar- she loved you two.

“Babies,” Natalia whispered gently, and leaned over the arm of the chair so she could rattle your shoulder. You had folded yourself into Nevada, who jumped awake the moment he heard her voice. His arms tensed, and he bobbed his shoulder so your head rocked up from the spot it had found on his chest. Once your attention was evident, he grumbled and hid his eyes behind your head. Hospital lights were way too bright.

Your eyes went wide, and you immediately shifted to grab hold of her hands. “Natalia, what is it? Are you o-”

“You wanna come see her?” She whispered, grinning sweetly through her happy tears. Curiously, you searched her face for confirmation; you didn’t think Lillian would be allowed visitors for quite a while longer. “She’s awake, _Your Name_ , you wanna come see her, my sweet girl?”

Hesitation was not an option. You ended up falling out of the chair and onto the floor- between you trying fervently to push off the wall and Nevada working to stand, you were a casualty. No worries, though; your knees may bruise, but nothing was more important than getting to that sweet baby. It took you seconds to scramble to your feet, with assistance from Nevada tugging you up by your arm once he climbed over the arm of the chair. “Yes,” you insisted quickly, as if rushing yourself so hadn’t answered her question already.

Natalia held onto your hand with her left and Nevada took hold of her IV companion. Proudly, she lead you two into the darkened room. The only illumination was the lights flooding the hallway windows and the warming lamp so precisely placed above Lillian’s box. She squirmed, the first time she had really moved since she had been born, and you thought you heard Nevada’s shoes squeak as he stumbled in his steps.

You could barely breathe, there wasn’t enough air to. You spontaneously broke out in the same joyful tears you had seen on Natalia’s cheeks only minutes before. Little Lillian’s blue eyes gazed curiously around her- oh the sweet angel. If only she knew how loved she had been, how adored she was now. “Preciosa,” Nevada mumbled under his breath, obviously entranced with the tiny girl.

"She's so perfect, Natalia," your voice hitched, but she coiled herself against your side. The proud mother nodded vehemently, and rocked to kiss your cheek.

"She really is, she's beautiful-" Natalia confirmed, "Our sweet little angel."

\---

You had taken Natalia to get something to eat while waiting for her sisters- it had been at least a day and a half since she’d last had food. She had been refusing to leave Lillian’s side, and only a few nurses dared to argue with her. She was a Mama Bear now, though- there wasn't anywhere Lillian was going without her family. Any tests were to be drawn at Natalia's discretion, any doctor who boldly tried to enter the room was interrogated by Nevada. Likely, the hospital staff would be delighted when you all were finally gone.

Camilla and Valentina flocked to the pale Natalia, joining her in the cafeteria as soon as they arrived. They fawned over her apparent glow, and the sweet smile she couldn't rid from her face. "Oh you even look like a mami-" Camilla delicately laid her arms over her shoulders. "You're beautiful, Nat, you're stunning."

"Where's Vada at?" Valentina twisted on the stool, to face you. "He sent for us, we figured he'd be with you guys." Somehow you had become the official Ramirez Wrangler, apparently.

"I think he's with Lillian," you conceded thoughtfully, even tapping at your chin to try and recall where he said he'd be headed. "I'll go get him, he should eat too."

"Have you eaten?" Camilla easily realized you were acting as the glue here, keeping everyone together. "You can't be getting tired, now." She plucked up a few apple slices from her sister's tray, and tossed one your way while helping herself to the others.

You hadn't. "I will," it was an empty promise, but she accepted it anyway. Natalia kept close eyes on you as you left the cafeteria, she wouldn't have to ask for you to give her an update upon your return.

\---

You thought you had heard a song, of some sorts, but you hadn’t been able to place it. There weren’t TVs in the NICU, and you hadn’t seen a radio.

“Duérmete mi sobrina~” You silently leaned against the doorway, making a mental snapshot of the scene. There was no way you ever, ever wanted to forget this: you wished you had a video camera. Nevada was leaned over the case, drawing little invisible doodles atop the container while precious Lillian squirmed beneath the light. The baby books had told you they couldn’t focus while so young: but it looked as if she was staring straight up at him. You’d be damned if she wasn’t lavishing in his love.

“Duérmete mi sol~” Nevada was smirking, a sweet smile you don’t think you had seen since you were younger. His cheek was pressed against the case, and those green eyes that had shot fear and reverence through your soul were filled with the dearest love you had ever seen radiate from him. "Duérmete pedazo, de mi corazón~"

You couldn’t recall a time you had ever adored a man like you adored him right in this moment.  
You couldn’t imagine ever adoring any man the way you adored him, just now.

Shrugging yourself off the entryway, you made your presence known. You hoped you wouldn't frighten him, but his cool gaze slid from the baby to you without him even flinching. "She's so perfect," Nevada advised as he had already done hundreds of times over. His repetition was welcomed.

"She really is," You confirmed, and rest your head against his shoulder as he took his time tracing hearts against the case. Sending love via invisible notes, it was beautiful. "Vada, Honey, your sisters are here. They wanna see you-"

"You ever gonna be a mami, _Your Name_?" Nevada whispered it, as if he were saying something dirty instead of asking a simple question. "You lit up when you saw Lillian." You both watched as the little baby fought sleep- everyone was doing much of the same. Nobody wanted to miss a moment, but dozing into dreamland did sound so tempting.

The inquiry was heavy, and you weren't very certain how you should answer. How could you think about being a mother? Yours wasn't much of one, your father wasn't around- what would you know about being a parent? The best parent you knew was an even tossup between Natalia's mother and Camilla- they loved more intensely than you ever thought possible. "I'm too young for babies," you announced finally, and leaned in to hover over Lillian's wandering eyes. "Plus where would I find the time? I gotta help with this sweet girl."

Nevada nodded thoughtfully, and cocked his head to the side as he studied her little movements. Flexed fingers, curled toes, arms squirming and body wriggling to the music of life. He wondered what she thought about all the craziness: the faces appearing over her, the lights, the beeping in the background. It was easy to dismiss life as background noise when you were accustomed to it- but new ears, new eyes. It must be fascinating. Or terrifying.

He'd make it perfect.

"What about you, Vada?" You hugged yourself to his arm, briefly breaking his trance of adulation. "You gonna be a papi one day? You'd make a beautiful baby, I know it." His brows furrowed, and he gazed down at you leaning against him. "I'd even help; I could just be the Official Ramirez Nanny." You wriggled your shoulders at the title, it was one you could get used to.

His chuckling was odd, not his normal jovial laughter. "I dunno, Niñita," he mumbled before finally starting to walk away from the little crib. You were drug along with him, and the two of you dreamily sauntered through the hallways towards where his sisters were gathered. "I'm fairly certain you'd be the best mami in the world," he unblushingly went for your hand, and raised it to his lips so he could land a kiss on your knuckles. "You'd be the only one I'd want raising my babies."

You giggled, a sharp cheery contrast to the white walls and rooms filled with sickness. "Awe, Nevada, I'd raise any of your babies." Rocking up, you planted a peck of your own on his cheek, and a blush rose to his face when you pulled yourself away.

There was more to say, but Nevada chose to swallow those words into his chest, leave them buried in his heart. If you wouldn't have babies, he likely wouldn't either- so it appeared as if an impasse had been reached. "Where the Hell are those girls?" He grumbled, shaking you a bit to make your steps fumble.

"Waiting for you, Nevada," you teased. "As always."

\---

Valentina and you had found yourselves alone in the hallway while everyone was fawning over darling Lillian, and she slid over a little business card. Curiously, you flipped it over, and saw ten digits scrawled out. “He’s a doctor,” she brought up louder than she intended to. “A nice doctor- he told me about how you were so sweet to be there for your friend.”

You sighed, and ran your fingertips over the embossed print. Sweet Valentina, playing Cupid in the dreariest of places. "Thank you, Honey," you mused gently while shoving the card in your pocket.

"He was that blonde, he's handsome," she nodded in agreeance to her own statements. "I bet he'd take you out to dinner, somewhere fancy." Her hips squirmed in her seat, and you couldn't help but laugh at the devilish grin on her face. She was far too excited about this prospect. "You could wear a nice dress instead of those little things you and Natalia call clothes-"

"Oh lay off it," you teased, and bumped her elbow with your arm so it fell off the chair and she faltered. "I'll call him, just be quiet," You had no intentions on calling her nice doctor, but you knew she wouldn't drop it unless you told her you would. The Ramirezs were Relentless. "You're gonna get me in trouble."

"Come onnnnn, _Your Name_ , I got you a damn DOCTOR!" Valentina's eyes rolled to the ceiling, and she dramatically tossed her head back so it rest on the top of her chair. "You need to grow some balls, or at least stop letting him bust yours." She flicked at your thigh, and the click of her nails made you jump. “You never know, maybe you’ll really like him, he’s so sweet- nothing like Vada.”

Your jaw fell, and you went to argue; if only she had seen how saccharine he had been hours earlier while singing lullabies to the darling baby, the sight was burnt in your memory. You both were interrupted by the omnipresent tension that was Nevada stomping his way out of the NICU nursery. His eyes- you had expected them to be as full and loving as they were when you had caught him singing earlier. But now, they were dull. His jaw was clenched, he looked annoyed or upset. What had happened? You suddenly found yourself on edge.

"Come on, Niñita-" He grunted roughly, and kicked at the leg of your chair in hopes to entice you to move quicker. It worked, and you obediently rose to your feet. Valentina kicked at your thigh where she had flicked you earlier, symbolizing how right she was regarding her brother's control. "We're getting clothes and shit for Natalia," he added in a low tone, and shamelessly slapped at Valentina's leg to punish her for whatever she was trying to do. When did he get so suspicious?

"Okay, Vada, Okay-" You assumed he was just tired, and grumpy. Men. "Let's go then, chill out." As you had been earlier, you tried to hold onto his arm. You were gruffly denied as he stole his limbs up and crossed them over his chest. So, instead, you mirrored his indignance. Despite how he refused letting you cling to him, you leaned your head against his shoulder, and he allowed it.

Just another day with Nevada.

\---

You should have known better than to underestimate Trujillo.  
Trujillo always heard everything.

His booming voice interrupted the peaceful silence: “Are you gonna call him?” He hadn't looked at you once the entire walk to his car, and had chosen to sit on the opposite side of the seats after you climbed into the back. Everyone was tired, you had tried to convince yourself, nobody really felt like themselves.

But now you questioned your logic: Nevada certainly seemed to be being Nevada. An asshole.

You hadn’t realized he had taken the trouble to listen in on your and Valentina's conversation. Maybe he was pulling at straws, so you pushed your luck: "Call who?"

Suddenly, you had his attention, and he twisted so he would be looking at you instead of out the tinted window. In unison, you turned to press your face against the cool glass. It felt nice, especially while trying to hide the nervous flush that rose to your cheeks. "Your fuckin' doctor." His voice went high, to mock you and his sister; " _The haaandsome bloonde one_."

"Stop being jealous," you hissed. "Nevada, everyone's exhausted, stop acting like this-" You begged, and tried to pry the sweet man you had seen back at the hospital from his hiding place. You missed him already. Even further, you slid your palm along the smooth leather until it rest lonely between the two of you. "Vada-"

He glared, green eyes squinting as if trying to peel back your words for the ulterior motives. His stare shifted, between your fingers and your sad face. Nevada didn't trust you, and he jutted his own open hand out between you. His remained in the air, though, hovering over yours. "Give me the card," he demanded bluntly.

It would have been too easy to hand over the little business card. You couldn't let him do this, control you. You had let him get away with it too often, you hadn't been strong enough. Perhaps the lack of sleep left you dilerious, but you would not roll over. "No." The single syllable hung stagnant in the air.

"Dame la tarjeta." Spanish meant he was serious, but your stare had become a challenge. His eyes refused to slip from yours, so you were well aware he saw when you denied him by slowly wagging your head side to side. He would not intimidate you, not now.

"No." Again, the one word fell from your lips, and you watched cautiously as his head cocked to the opposite side. That was not what he was hoping for, apparently. You wished you could glance out a window, see how far you had to hold up before you'd be deposited at the apartment.

It all happened too quick, you were too tired to focus. Nevada dove across the divide, successfully pinning you hard against the door and your seat- your cheek slammed roughly against the glass and you yelped as the pain radiated through your skull. "Vada, don't," you begged helplessly as he wrapped an arm over your chest so he could go at your pants. You twisted, hoping to worm out of the forceful embrace, and he dug his fingers into your front pockets. Obviously, he was looking for the card.

"Where is it?" He grunted as you struggled, but made a vital mistake when he shifted to try and raise you off the seat. Nevada spun and pulled at you until your chest was atop his shoulder- he wrapped an arm around your midsection while you pounded fists into his back. If the damned number wasn't in your front pockets, he knew where it had to be. "Goddamnit, _Your Name_ ," he tried to slip his fingertips into the back pockets of your jeans, "if you just stop being a fucking bitch-"

That was enough. Once you were lifted off the leather, you threw a leg over him, and kneed him in the stomach hard enough to make him recoil. Tears were in your eyes- how dare he? Come at you like this, physically manhandle you over something you hadn't even asked for- who the Hell did he think he was? "You're a sick asshole,” you shouted at him, loud enough to cause the driver to check in the rear view mirror to make sure everything was alright. He couldn't see your face; you were sat on Nevada with your legs on either side of his lap.

"And you're a little puta-" He hocked, and spat at you, his saliva hitting your shoulder. "You want a doctor? Go fuck a doctor then, what the hell are you two gonna talk about?" You went to slap at him, but he smartly caught your wrists in his hands. Bubblegum Bitch Voice came back: " _Ohhh hiii, I'm Niñita_ ,” he jabbed at your side to make you cry out- “ _I hide smack up my skirt and nanny for a drug dealer._ "

"You're awful, Nevada," you tore your wrists from his grip, and rose to your knees- his face was inadvertently pressed into your chest as your back arched. Without even thinking, he inhaled your perfume, and his hands went to slide up your shirt so he held you by your lower back- saving you from falling. You grabbed hold of the top of the card from the one pocket he hadn't checked. "I don't want a stupid doctor, Valentina did that shit-" you dropped back to sitting on his legs, and meticulously ripped the card into pieces in front of his face. You were crying still, but you hadn't even noticed. It didn't take you a second thought: you didn't want that number. You didn't want that doctor. You didn't need a nice dinner.

He remained stoic, dropping his hands until they fell to your thighs, and Nevada watched carefully -nearly suspiciously- as you tore the little piece of paper to shreds. Even when you leaned over him, he refused to move, but buried his face in your throat as you tossed them all out of the window. They flew behind the car like snowflakes, as if a snowglobe had been rattled.

"Fuck you, Nevada," you proceeded with your rant, but he clung to you, hands tangling with each other atop the skin on your back. Before you could tell him how much you hated him anymore, he peppered your neck with kisses and sweet nips. "I can't stand you," you whimpered, but buried your fingers in his dark hair, his affection made your eyelids flutter. "You're awful, Nevada, you bring out the worst of me-"

"Shhhh," He demanded complacency, and groaned while pulling you against him. "There is no worst about you," he mumbled just so you could hear. As you wilted, he shoved and tugged at your legs, so he could rest his back against the door and force you to lay on his chest. "We're all tired," he brought up the point you had made earlier, and kissed at your head over your mussed hair. "Shhh just rest a minute."

Nevada wouldn't say he was wrong, he never did that- and further, he would absolutely not apologize. You didn't expect him to. But; he kept one arm taught around you so he could easily lay you over him, and the other proudly combed through your hair. His heart beat hard, you could hear it even through his clothes. Your breathing was still staggered, you thought you were still angry, but your new placement was too comfortable. He held you so tightly, like a strait jacket to contain all your craziness- you couldn't move even if you wanted to.

But that was fine. Between his lips kissing the top of your head and his free hand tracing trails along your spine, you were finally able to find the sleep that had eluded you for what felt like days. His scent drug you to dreamland and his touch lulled you to Heaven.

"I got you, _Your Name_ ," Nevada whispered just before you fell asleep, "I'm never lettin' go."

You hoped he wouldn't. Please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Duérmete mi sobrina~” // "Go to sleep my niece~"  
> “Duérmete mi sol~” // "Sleep my sun~"  
> "Duérmete pedazo, de mi corazón~" // "Sleep, piece of my heart~"  
> "Dame la tarjeta." // "Give me the card."


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING: okay it had to happen eventually, if you blush easy don't read this in public :*

You had gathered Natalia's things into a suitcase, still lackadaisical from the events over the last few days: Not to mention the pounding headache you had earned on the ride over- where did she keep her aspirin? Or Xanax, that could help too. Did she still have that junk stashed away somewhere?

Nevada came up behind you while you were working by the bed, wrapping arms around your waist. Immediately, you tensed up, suspicious and tired. You dropped the clothes you had been working on folding. "What are you doing?" You asked mutedly, but the limbs around you only tightened.

"Nothin'." You didn't believe him. Nevada was never doing 'nothing', unless he was thinking about what to do next. He was a consistently wound coil, ready to spring at the slightest tap. Additionally, he should be helping, not doing 'nothing'. Suspiciously, you pushed down on his hands, but he refused to let you go. "Does your face hurt?" He finally asked gently, tapping against your cheek with his, where it had been slammed into the window during his prior attempts to steal the business card.

"Yea," did he really think it wouldn't? "Yea, you knocked me against the window, Nevada." He finally let you go when you tried to stomp on his foot. You missed, but he got the hint.

"I was mad," he knew it wasn't an excuse, it felt even more unlike one when he said it out loud. "I'm sorry, stop being grumpy at me."

Your eyes rolled: just stop? Because he wanted you to? He was being jealous, and stupid, and you would not let him get away with it. "You're full of shit," you were tired, you didn't want to do this with him. "Just leave me alone, please. I'm busy."

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but Nevada was going crazy. After everything that had happened, that's been happening. This was enough of the game. "I'm sorry-"

"You're always sorry, Nevada."

He bit his lip, and glared as you busied yourself with the suitcase. "Hurry up," without offering to assist, he went to tapping away at his phone, and lifted the ear piece so he could listen for the call to place. “I got shit to do,” he whispered it to you, warningly, before leaving the apartment so he could have his privacy.

Even days after the birth of his ‘ _sobrina dulce’_ , there was work to do.  
He needed to focus- and you needed to earn your keep.

So you packed her bags, you prepared the beds for her return. He had left for upwards of half an hour- you had managed to get things together for Natalia and yourself. Unwilling to be away from your loves much longer, you left the apartment on your own accord, and went to find Nevada while dragging her suitcase and a hoisting a smaller bag of your own over your shoulder.

“It’s alriiiight, you worry too fuckin’ much;” He was out front, smoking a cigarette and leaning against his car. Your unexpected presence was met with a glare, but he still opened the back door so you could climb in. No need to end his conversation, you weren’t important enough to interrupt work. “We’ll meet, we’ll get it all solved, who are you talking to?” The cigarette was abandoned to the cement and he stomped on the cherry before closing your door. “That’s right, Trujillo, and Trujillo don’t let shit slip, you fuckin’ hear me?”

Before he took his place behind the driver, on the other side of the bags, he had hung up his cell phone. You watched carefully, leaned against the suitcase, as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You got work to do?” Conversation, could be nice?

“I always got work to do,” he didn’t look up, remained focused on the screen in his hands. Good riddance. Instead of worrying about his disinterest, you lay your face on the bag and closed your eyes for just a moment- just long enough to cat nap the distance to the hospital.

Sometime after you dozed off, Nevada noticed, and he very delicately ran fingertips along your forehead to move your hair behind your ear so it wouldn’t tickle your nose. Dreamily, you swatted at him, as if he were a fly buzzing by your head. He grunted at the unconscious dismissal, and turned back to his phone. Fine, your hair could fall in your face all it wanted to for all he cared.

\---

"Why don't you two go?" Camilla finally suggested, upon finding you nearly asleep on the sorry excuse of a cot the hospital provided a few nights ago. "Even Natalia has gotten more sleep than you and Vada have," she pinched at your cheek before giving it a quick peck of a kiss: appreciation. It was a good point; Natalia and Lillian were both sleeping while all four of you remained drowsy in the waiting room. The baby had even been moved back into her room, thank the Heavens. They both appeared happier and more at ease, just by being together. "Go sleep in a bed, one night,” Camilla suggested while combing fingers through your hair.

Even Valentina was on her side, which wasn’t surprising. "We can hold down the fort for an evening," she nodded vibrantly and prodded at Nevada's temple from the safety of her seat alongside him. “It’s what sisters do.” She knew he was still upset about getting the doctor’s number for you; he had gruffly chastised her immediately upon returning to the hospital. Lucky for her, Valentina couldn’t care less if he was mad.

Ramirezs were never scared, especially of each other.

Nevada had kindly let you recline on the cot, choosing instead to sit up in the chair that had been brought back from the NICU while you were gone. Apparently that was his chair now; he didn’t seem to have any interest in leaving it. He had been too busy with his phone to really bother with any of you girls, anyway.

"But what if she needs something?" You mumbled through a sleepy haze, and Nevada leaned over to lay a hand over your mouth, muffling you even further.

His eyes rolled, and he spoke over your wriggles of protest, “I think they can handle it, niñita- you’re the nanny. Not a superhero.” Nevada was getting way too comfortable reminding you of your occupation; it started to feel like a sentence instead of employment.

Camilla giggled, and slapped her brother's arm away for you. "I think we can handle it," she joked, and reached under the cot for your clutch. Carefully, she tossed the little purple bag onto you, hitting your stomach and causing you to recoil. “Go home, get dinner, get eight hours-“

“It’s probably a good idea,” Your eyes shot open when you heard Nevada agree- that wasn’t quite what you were expecting. “I got shit I gotta get done anyway,” He shrugged when you gave him a bewildered look. The laziness was obvious in his bobbing shoulders, “You look like shit, and you need real sleep.” Your jaw fell, but you were much too tired to argue with him.

“You’re no fuckin’ Prince Charming,” Your taunt was met with a shove on your shoulder, so you sat up and scoot over until you could rest your head on Camilla’s arm instead of being in arms reach of Nevada. She laughed, and coiled arms around your shoulders in a hug. “But sleep in a bed does sound delightful.”

On cue, the man of the little family unit rose, and he actually pulled his attention from his phone long enough to pick up your bag from the floor by your cot. “Let’s get going then, I got business to take care of-“ He fluffed Valentina’s curls, before giving a swift tug on a specific highlighted  strand to make her whine. A quick reminder that he was still frustrated with her earlier deed, met with her lolling her tongue out to prove her apathy. “You girls call if you need anything; tell Natalia we love her…”

“Like we wouldn’t,” Camilla rolled her eyes, and held your hand while you stood alongside her brother. “Take care of her, Vada,” She pressed her lips on your knuckles, just before you began sauntering sleepily towards the exit. “She’s been such a good girl.”

He grunted to confirm, and bent at the waist to hug his snarky sibling. “Yea, yea, yea.”

The two of you left the hospital without exchanging much in terms of conversation: you had nothing to say and was still sour from his earlier outburst, he was preoccupied with all the happenings that had gone on without him. Less than a week and he was already dizzy from all the thug activity he had missed. Men getting out of line, his girls of the night needing this or that, deliveries that had either never occurred or went sour. It felt like nothing went well without his death grip controlling the reigns.

“Where you goin, Nevada?” You asked from the opposite end of the car, and placed your arm in the middle seat separating the two of you.

Without even looking up, he confirmed- “The Club, got work to do.” His eyebrow perked when he noticed your fingers sprawled out on the leather. “You wanna go?” Hesitantly, he lay his phone in his lap, and covered your lonely hand with his palm. Fingertips traced along the back of your hand, while awaiting your response. “We can get champagne, celebrate a bit.”

“Nah, Nevada, I’m tired-“ your yawn proved your point, and smartly concealed the blush on your cheeks that had ignited from his gentle touch. “You go, though, have fun.” A smile, the most sincere one you could manage after days without sleep. "And be good," you taunted him, just as he had ordered from you so often lately. ‘ _If you're a good girl, If she's good, I told you to be good’_ \- you wouldn't be the only one berated for your behavior.

He only smirked back at you while rolling his eyes to the sky, and his hand tightened atop yours. Nevada neither confirmed nor denied your order, but did start scrolling through his phone with only his free hand, which left his hold on you uncompromised.

Never before had a night of sleep sounded so wonderful.

\---

Initially, Nevada had gone out to talk to business partners who had missed him the last few days. His phone was backed up with messages for updates on shipments or requests for certain girls, but he had been distracted. By his ‘ _sobrina dulce_ ’, by the familial responsibilities he tried so desperately to keep separate from his night life.

It didn't take long to set the underbelly of The Heights back on its axis, though that was no surprise. Trujillo was the Atlas of Washington Heights, once the world was placed back on his shoulders; it was a matter of moments before everything was righted. Sooner than later: most concerns had been forgiven, and anything that couldn't be fixed in the evening was dismissed.

And so now, he was celebrating.  
He was here to have a good time, a damn good time.

After the shots of tequila were gone, the weed had been smoked, and a few lines of coke found its way up his nose- Nevada felt great. There were important men around him, advising him of their praises and offering favors if there were any Natalia would need. It was nice; he even had the chance to fawn over the numerous photos on his phone with a few of his girls before they went out to meet their clients.

"Oh Nevada," they'd coo before hugging him around the neck, and kissing his cheek to show their true appreciation of the precious cherub he was more than willing to brag about. "She is gorgeous, what a beautiful girl." He'd nod, and let them pass the little pictures around.

It was when a beautiful little redhead slithered to his side, surprisingly, that he found himself having less and less fun. He had entertained it at first; of course, he wasn't in the business of being rude. She had been trotted over to him on the arm of a familiar face, she was the friend of an ally Kingpin’s wife- everyone knew Nevada wouldn’t pay for a girl, if he needed a prostitute he’d use his own, but everyone knew how he loved women. So, to be nice, he had even bought her a drink; since she was apparently on his tab, made evident by how she flung a leg over his lap.

One of those social butterflies with lots to say, he hadn’t realized the hassle he had gotten himself in when he accepted her spot at his side. She held his face in her hands to funnel useless information to his ear, it annoyed him. Purposefully, he hadn’t asked for her name, but she gladly shared it anyways. Along with information about her friend, and about her pup, and an assortment of other things he sincerely didn’t care about.

He didn't like her dark lipstick, or her high cheek bones. How she ran her hand along his thigh, poked fingertips into the pockets of his dark jeans, left lip prints on his jaw line when helping herself to taste his skin. Nevada made a mental note to wash them all off, she didn’t have a right to mark him. He didn’t want her legs on his or her chest pressed against his arm, despite the involuntary warmth collecting between his legs in response to her close fawning over him.

It was odd, really, he found himself comparing the poor girl- to You.

There was no use, though; nobody could stack up.  
Not even the pretty club girl that had practically been gifted to him.

“I gotta fuckin’ go,” Nevada announced out of turn, and stood without warning. The redhead went tumbling from his lap, and he winced without offering to help her up. No other words or polite goodbyes were left in his wake- instead; he readjusted himself with a crude motion, and shrugged his jacket back over his shoulders. He needed something: a cold shower, time to figure out why he couldn’t bring himself take the pretty girl to the bathroom and blow off the steam she blew in his ears.

No, no- Nevada didn’t need any of that. He needed You.

\---

You awoke when you felt something fall, quite literally, onto the bed beside you. Knowing it wasn’t Natalia, you lazily rolled over when you recognized the scent of tequila and tobacco wafting through the air. Honestly, you figured he passed out; he must be wasted if he decided to help himself into your bed-

Not your luck. He growled, then grumbled a hoarse: “Ay, honey,” and hands were all over you, dragging you from your comfortable spot amidst the pillows until you were gathered against his chest. He was still in his street clothes; leather jacket, belt, jeans, you even thought he had sunglasses on his head. “You miss me?”

There was never enough time to really miss him. What the fuck was going on? “Nevada, it’s late,” you grumbled while trying to roll back to sleep. His lips trailing kisses from your throat to your ear was a wonderful distraction, though. Each nip felt like fire and ice, all at once. A conundrum worth crooning for.

“I know it’s late,” he grunted in response, and his right hand slid unblushingly up the skirt of your chemise. The sudden intrusion made you jump, which he took full advantage of- his left arm went under you so he could fondle your breast over the silk. “I just got home…”

First off, this wasn’t his home. Well, technically, but he didn’t live there. “Nevada, what the fuck is up with you-” you whimpered lazily. Your mind told you to shove him out of the bed, or to tell him to go to his own side. It was incredibly hard to deny him in this state, though. How did one have the power to paralyze AND seduce?

“I was good,” he whispered it into your ear, before biting on your lobe with his teeth. Involuntarily, your back arched, and you sighed- you hadn’t been kissed on like this since he had you laid out on his bed before Lillian was born. “Now it’s your turn.” Your sudden move was counteracted, and the hand up your skirt took hold of your hip to keep you pressed against his pelvis.

You wriggled, and reached behind you to try and push yourself off of him, buy you a second to think. Instead, he took your wrist and forced your hand down his belly- so you had your palm on the bulge growing distinct inside his jeans. It suddenly dawned on you what he must mean by being 'good’- he hadn’t been with anyone at the club. Nevada Ramirez had gone out to party and came home with a hard dick and a longing… come back to you, for you. Well this was intriguing.

“Oh yea, Nevada?” You managed in a whispy tone, and the hand fumbling with your chest immediately found your throat at the utterance of his name. Long fingers splayed out under your chin, forcing you to crane your neck upwards. Nevada tugged and shifted, so he could look down over your shoulder and play voyeur as his other hand hiked your skirt and went to tracing the outline of your black underwear. “You were good for me?”

You could feel him nod, and he nipped at the soft skin on your throat after doing so, you'd have whimpered if you didn't think he'd like it so much. “Si,” he confirmed in a ferocious whisper.

“Did you think of me?” Teasingly, you ground your rear against his pelvis once more, and moved the hand he had put on his jeans up until you could slide your fingers inside the waistband, two knuckles deep. “Did you think of me while you were out, or did you find some-”

He moaned, and slithered his own hand down into your panties, two fingers took turns making long strides over your hidden lips. “Shhhh,” he huffed into your ear; you broke the instruction with a sultry whine, but he allowed it without punishment. “You’re the only girl I wanna find.”

It was music to your ears, what a magical melody, and his grunt when you managed to get your hand past the tight cinch of his belt was the most beautiful sound you had likely heard from him. It was want, it was loss of control.

Nevada shifted and rose to his knees, making urgent progress in removing his jacket. Surprisingly alert, you rose from your spot in the bed, and slithered your hands up his chest while meeting him in a kiss. He smiled against your lips, and went to gathering the hem of your chemise in his palms, taking his time to savor the sensations of silk and lace. "You always wear such pretty things just to sleep?" He chuckled, and rocked his hips towards you when he felt your hands go to work on his belt.

"When I wear anything-" the leather gave way, you had obviously done this before, and he slid the strap through his belt loops so he could toss the offending barrier across the room. Smoothly, you went to the hem of his shirt, and it took little convincing for him to help you remove it off over his head. "You like it, Nevada?"

He nodded, biting onto your lip, and delicately tracing your sides to appreciate the outfit one last time. "I'd like it better on the floor," on cue, you tossed your hands into the air, and he stripped the chemise from your frame as if you were a Christmas package he couldn't wait to unwrap. Your giggling filled the dark room, and he hastily coiled arms around you so you had to come closer.

Bowing, Nevada went to laying lips and clumsy teeth on your bare chest, shockwaves crept through your veins. There was barely room to breathe, or move; not that you intended to go anywhere. He nipped where your skin lay over collar bones, ran his tongue along the dips and valleys between your breasts and in the hollow of your throat. "You got me, Vada?" You whimpered just before he took your nipple in his mouth. A sigh, loud and necessary, and you involuntarily jumped within his embrace.

"Mhmmmm," he didn't even take the time to raise his face, he agreed to your request with his lips against your sensitive skin. The only time he separated was when he went to remove his jeans, all in one go. While he was away, you easily slunk out of your panties- your task took less time, which was how you managed to land against his chest and force him to tumble onto his back while still kicking his pants off his ankles.

Now, you were on top, and you took full advantage. This was the moment of truth, the boundary that had finally been reached. “You gonna take care of me, Nevada?” While asking, you rose to your knees over him, and rocked your hips so you could slide your sex up the length of his very ready manhood. You were wet and warm; it made the breath catch in the back of his throat.

“Yesss,” he hissed, and reached up to grab hold of your hips. The attempt to guide you was feeble and futile- you had control now. And you weren’t ready for him. Not yet.

You sighed when the head of his cock ran along your hidden valley, and you bit your lip when you saw him jump as your clit slid against his tip. “You gonna be my man, Nevada?” Down, tantalizingly, you shifted back until he sprung up and stood at firm attention in front of your pelvis. “Only mine?”

He exhaled, and nodded, desperately. Not quite good enough, you repeated your previous taunt and hovered over him, hands planted smartly on his chest. You cradled the sensitive head of his cock against your opening, letting it rest just outside of paradise as you leaned forward. “You hear me, Nevada?” You whispered in a low hum, and he groaned during an attempt to thrust himself up- you counteracted it by lifting your hips too high for him to reach. For once, you had all the control.

You tisked your tongue at his failure, and he rolled his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ teasing,” Nevada advised gruffly, hands flying to your thighs and tightening hard enough to leave red marks behind. “No more teasing, no more goddamn games-”

“Then say it.” You had learned that trick from him, after all. “Say it, or I stop.” Emphasis on the ending 'P' and you lowered again, so you could catch his hard member just against your warmth. Of course, you wanted him, but if he was going to finally get the prize- you needed yours. “Say you’re mine, Nevada, and I’ll be all yours.”

His hand rose, to your chin, and he took a firm grasp. His face changed, it wasn’t the lust you had just seen in him moments ago- he was somber. Was he done with your taunting? Had you taken it too far? You tried not to tremble as he pulled your face down, closer to his- you could taste the leftover tequila on his tongue without even kissing him.

“I’ve been yours-” he spoke darkly, seriously, and didn’t even move his hips to try and force his way to the end of the race. “I’ve been yours; I’ve just been fuckin' waiting on you, like always.” It made your heart sink, but before you could protest, he continued. “If you’re ready, it’s done. No more nothin’ but you for me,” Nevada kissed you, it was odd and soft- but it was absolutely perfect. “But that means," he spoke into your mouth, refusing to separate: "I get **all** of you.”

The game had been won. Instantaneously, you lowered onto him, gasping against his lips as he filled you. It had been too long since you’ve been in this position with a man; he reacted to your tightness with a tense grip of his fingers- you felt his electric touch through your face and down your leg.

Nevada spoke your name: not the pet name he had made common, but yours. He moaned through it, he grunted it when you went slower; he whimpered it when you bit at his throat. Your turn: you made your own marks, little nips of adoration and lust, in places you’d have used makeup to hide. He wouldn't, everyone would have to see them, they'd wonder who made them- you'd know they were yours. He wouldn't forget it. His fingers went to your hair, giving a tug so he could pry you off of him.

“My turn,” before you could process the ideal, he sat up, and you were taken off balance to lay supine on the soft mattress. A thumb to your clit, the other to your mouth- he pressed against your lower teeth to leave your lips ajar. No use trying to muffle your moans when your mouth lay open. “You’re mine, honey-” that wasn’t a question, but you knew he never repeated himself.

And Trujillo had already determined your ownership last time.

Was this what you thought it was? It wasn’t how you’d imagined it; then again you never imagined a proposal of singularity from him. Typically a boy asked to be your boyfriend after a dinner and some wine, or while politely dancing with you under the sporadic lights of a club. This wasn’t a matter of opinion, though, was it? This was the inevitable; the prophecy being fulfilled just as efficiently as he fulfilled you- your senses. Your lust. Your needs.

“Si, Nevada-” In he went, and you whined while bucking your pelvis in an attempt to meet his. No chance- his palm on the bone of your hips pinned you down to the mattress. His hand left your face to press on your belly, your bottom half was immobile.

A few moments; hazy, dreamy minutes of fulfillment- he spoke in Spanish, it might as well have been Gibberish, it was all mumbles and nonsense when put up against the ringing in your ear. The bells, the Hallelujah march, but what of the sudden chorus of success- of warmth, could you feel music?

You could with Nevada as the conductor.

“I’m close, baby-” He called you baby, how precious, but you could only barely nod to confirm the same. To assist, he bowed over you, and lapped wet circles around your perked nipples; your hands flew to rake through his hair and encourage him.

“Then keep going, Nevada,” Your request was interrupted by the high pitch howl you didn’t intend to make but couldn't manage to muffle- “ _don’t stop_ , _por favor, mi amor_ ~”

A noise, it could have meant nearly anything seeing as how you hadn't heard it before, but tonight it meant he was satisfied, and it was all you could hear as his pace quickened. His jaw clenched, hands lifted your hips to meet his- you wrapped your legs around him, though your torso remain the only part of you on the bed.

The crescendo, the opening of the pearly gates: it all happened too quickly, too overwhelming. Your climax and his were forcibly simultaneous, you moaned his name when your belly tightened, and he mumbled words of encouragement as he felt your body go limp in his hands. Nevada was stiff until you felt him pulse inside of you, and you thought you saw him close his eyes: did he hear the music too?

Considering how his gaze instinctively caught yours when he finished and they finally opened- you thought that just maybe, he could.

And Nevada collapsed, nearly as roughly as he had when he first came into your room. While still catching his breath, he reached over your waist to collect the blankets, and drug them delicately over the both of you. You remain paralyzed; the gravity of what had just occurred washing over you once you had your balance after being lost in the throes of lust.

"Nevada?" You whispered his name through huffs of air, and he grunted to show he heard you. Gruffly, he pulled you close, and buried his face into the crook of your neck. "Nevada, did you mean it?"

Another grunt and he nipped at your throat with his teeth. You jumped, body still alert. "Sleep, honey," he begged in the softest voice you had likely ever heard from him. "Just sleep."

You nodded to agree, and idly ran your fingers through his dark hair. The strands fell against your palms, then against each other, and you could actually feel him soften as your petting lulled him to sleep. It took you a bit longer, however; eyes glued to the ceiling while you tried to process what had taken place.

Were you Nevada Ramirez’s ‘Lady’ now?

\---

You woke up the next morning to a light sensation of paranoia: someone was watching you. Involuntarily, you jumped, but Nevada twitched in surprise of your sudden action. "Sh, stop-" he insisted, planting you back down against the pillows with a solid hand over your chest. He hadn't gotten dressed, but he was obviously more awake than you.

"Why're you starin?" You asked sleepily, before twisting to keep your sheets up over you so you could glare at him as your faces lay on pillows. "You scared me."

"You okay?" At first, you thought he was making fun of you- but the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. He appeared genuinely concerned, though you weren't quite certain why he'd ask about your wellbeing. Was he really that drunk last night, did he know what happened?

Blind to context, you nodded, to confirm you were indeed 'okay'. "Why you askin, Vada?" You tried to lighten the mood with a smirk, and jokingly kicked at his leg from under the blankets. "You think you hurt me?"

His green eyes rolled, "No, stupid-" Nevada chastised you with a swift kick of his own, then wrapped arms around you so he could pull you against his bare chest. Eagerly, you kissed at his collarbone, and traced his shoulder with your fingertips. It was nice, he liked it, so he let you continue for a few moments before interrupting. "Are you okay with," Nervously, he began fiddling with your hair. "Us."

You squirmed, until your cheek lay against his chest and you could stare up at him from your spot pinned against him. "I am," it was whispered, you worried it was a trap. Just an inkling in the back of your mind told you to stay on guard- but how could you do that when you were both at your most vulnerable? Naked, in bed, together; it was unreasonable to not be honest. "But did you mean it?"

Nevada nodded sternly, boldly; it rocked your head as he did so. "I did," he added simply before leaning down to kiss your forehead, and lingered. This could have led to a simple, sweet morning: maybe pillow talk and cuddling until you finally decided to go back to the hospital, maybe things could actually start to make sense and you two could explain the last many years-

But that wasn't how things went with Nevada.

"Now get the fuck up," He sat up fast, too fast, it caused you to roll off of him and onto the mattress below. Childishly, you buried yourself in the blankets. You wouldn't make him cuddle you, but you certainly didn't see why you had to get the fuck up. "C'mon, niñita, you're burnin' sunlight." A heavy hand swatted at your ass over the blankets, and you audibly whined despite having your face in the pillow.

You reached behind you, and smacked at him without even taking the time to look where you were hitting. The misaim managed to make contact with his thigh and his wrist, so you coiled your fingers around to keep him close. "Make some coffee then I'll get up."

"Make coffee!?" He mocked you, tearing his arm away and rising to his feet so he could go about looking for his clothes. "The fuck do I look like, you're the nanny, you go make coffee." Realizing he must be standing, you peeked from your fortress, and smiled secretly to yourself. Never thought you'd have a naked Nevada in your room.

"Pleeeaaaaasseeee, Nevada?" You pouted, and crawled over to him once he sat back down at the foot of the bed. Pressed up against his back, you slithered your hands up his chest, and used him as leverage to kiss at the back of his neck and the lobe of his ear- the hair stood up and you felt goosebumps spark from beneath your lips. "Pleaaase, _Honey_?"

He'd never admit it, and thankfully you couldn't see- but he smiled when you called him something sweet. Instead, what you could process, was him groaning theatrically and jumping to his feet; you fell off of his shoulders and covered yourself with sheets. "Tu es consentida," he pulled his boxers up and left the room without saying another word.

Back to the pillows you went, gladly, but you debated making the trip to the kitchen. You wanted coffee, and who knew if his stubborn ass would actually oblige you with an act of benevolence?

Well, maybe benevolence was a matter of opinion: because you could hear the dramatic 'clunk' of the coffee pot being put in place, a too-loud obscenity as the water was starting, and an aggravated shout, "Where's the fucking coffee, niñita?"

"Above the siiiink~" You sang out from your pillow palace, and proudly went back to relaxing after you heard the cabinet door get slammed shut.

This was something you could probably get used to.

But, should you? Would he let you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu es consentida // You are spoiled


	30. Mr. Mumbley

Her eyes- they were in a squint.  
Was she glaring at you?

Curiously, in hopes of gauging exactly how oddly she was going to be behaving, you offered her some of the candy you had gotten from the vending machine before arriving. She wagged her head to deny the offer. “Natalia?” Her sisters had advised you that both her and sweet Lillian would be released either this evening or the next morning. Perfect, you had assumed everyone would be ecstatic at the news.

Apparently, though, your cheery demeanor was more cause for consideration than the good news. “What did you do last night?” Your best friend cocked her head to the side, and you winced out of surprise. Maybe you had forgotten how improbable it really was to hide anything from her, it must be a family thing- they could all read you like a damn book. But sweet Natalia knew you better than you even knew yourself.

“Are you mad I left?” You were on the foot of her bed, watching little Lillian squirm as she slept in the little bin they had moved to the hospital room. “Your sisters said they’d tell you-”

"They did," she started simply, and sat up straighter in her bed. “You’re in a better mood than you’ve been in for weeks now, even before all of this,” a vague motion around the hospital room was made, you followed her hands to avoid eye contact. Her suspicious stare was slowly supplemented with the devilish Ramirez smirk. “Did you go out? I thought you weren’t allowed to go to our club?”

Did that rule still reign? “I didn’t go out,” you fluttered your fingertips her direction to dismiss the conversation. Or, to try to, at least. “I just got a full night of sleep, I needed it.”

Giggling from the peanut gallery, who had already caused more trouble than she could have imagined. “You look like you got laid.” Leave it to Valentina to break the dance of sensibilities. “Did you call the doctor?” She winked, and Natalia's eyebrows bounced.

"Oooh that blonde one!?" Her hands clapped together, though she wouldn't go above the decibal of a whisper. Nobody wanted Nevada to hear them talk about a possible beau for you- she knew him better than her sisters, it happened with proximity. "He's handsome, _YOUR NAME_ , can you imagine a DOCTOR!?"

Had they been in on this together? It felt like a conspiracy, but you had always been awful at keeping secrets. “No,” you mumbled obstinately, and took a few M&Ms for yourself- you didn't want to offer these troublemakers any, not anymore. "Look at little Lillian, she's so cute when she sleeps-"

No dice, they had been watching her sleep for at least thirty minutes before you got there- they were much more interested in you. "Don't let him fuck this up for you," Valentina chastised, and swat at your shoulder with a pamphlet she had pulled from some medical bin. "You got a job with Nevada, you get a rich man, you'd have it made, _YOUR NAME_. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing."

Why did everyone feel like you couldn't take care of yourself? Valentina was trying to make you a kept woman; just because she had sugar daddies didn't mean you needed any. An attempt was made to snatch her weapon from her, but you were unwilling to give up your spot on the bed. "Mind your own business, Tina, I don't want no damn doctor-"

As if on cue, Nevada trotted into the room, a bag of skittles from the vending machine in his hand. Ignoring his sisters, and the tense hush that fell over the room at his presence, he instead wandered over to where you sat with your fingertips curled around the crib’s legs. He was used to you all chattering until he arrived; he didn't care much for girl talk anyways.

Mindlessly, he took a seat beside you, and bumped at your knee with his to convince you to scoot. You obliged, but barely, and he propped himself up against you by landing his chin on your shoulder. A well placed arm went behind you, and he hooked a thumb into your belt loop while placing his palm on the mattress to settle himself.

Still, stony silence, and you were surprised- those girls always had something to talk about, even if the subject changed when Nevada came in. Instead, he leaned his temple against your head, and lay the candy in your lap so he could reach forward and run a careful fingertip over the obnoxious bow on Lillian's hat. "She's cute," he mumbled by your ear, before finally gazing around the room to survey his silent sisters.

"The fuck's your problem?" He asked gruffly, before shamelessly shaking out some Skittles into your lap. Your glare narrowed, and he paid no mind while helping himself to his candy. When his green eyes did finally meet your angry ones, he coyly pressed a Skittle to your pursed lips. It was a struggle not to smile, and he gave a rough tug at his hold on your jeans. Your eyes caught his, and for just a second- you both found a stupid smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

The split moment of lowered guards was more than enough- Natalia’s sharp squeal bought Nevada’s attention with little additional effort, he even dropped the Skittle that had been pressed to your mouth. Valentina’s hands clasped in front of her chest, and Camilla's immediately flew to hide her fallen jaw. His turn to scowl, and he jumped only slightly as the previously silent trio appeared to suddenly be ultimately fascinated by something- "What happened?"

“NO!” Natalia kicked, catching your hip and causing you to whine. Hoping to not wake the baby, Nevada gruffly covered your mouth with his hand. It felt like you were being ganged up on, how were you supposed to save this if he wouldn’t even let you talk? “You two- oh my God!”

Camilla audibly huffed, despite the smile that had come over her face. "Finally," she groaned theatrically, earning her a side-eye of suspicion from her older brother. Slowly, you could see the dominoes falling in place in his brain, and all four of you girls stared expectantly at him to either confirm or deny the charges.

“You fuckin told them?” Nevada scowled louder than he had intended to, but it was met with your eyes rolling dramatically to the sky. No, no you hadn’t; but he basically just did. Realization dawned over him when the giggles began, and you viciously bit at his palm so he’d stop muffling you. Finally, he spoke: “Shit," though it was more of a grunt, and he unblushingly hid his eyes in the crook of your neck. This wasn’t precisely how he expected to announce your new connection, if he even had intention of doing so at all- but apparently it was too late.

Oh well, he figured, before sliding his hand up from the loop of your pants to your waist so he could tug you tighter against him. If they knew, there wasn’t much reason to be modest, and he had no plans to waste his opportunity to keep you close.

Nevada and his Niñita; finally together. “It’s about damn time,” Valentina shrugged cooly while gathering her jacket over her shoulder and looking into a little mirror to fluff her curls. A careful fingertip was ran beneath her painted lips, fixing a smudge you hadn’t even noticed. "Now if you don't mind, I have a Doctor to go speak with-" She winked over her shoulder at you before meandering off into the hallway. Of course.

“Are you two gonna get married now!?” Natalia leaned forward, to wrap fingers around your arm and tug your attention back to her. “I can be your maid of honor and we can plan the wedding and-“

Nevada certainly disapproved of the sudden matrimonial talk, and thankfully he caught sight of your nose crunching in disagreement as well. “That's not how it works, Natalia-" he spoke with a snarl, while resting his chin on your shoulder- his warm breath fell over your collar bones, made you shiver. "If it was, then there'd be two names on Lillian's birth certificate."

Both you and your best friend’s faces changed, and you smacked at Nevada to punish him for the insensitive insult. Meanwhile, Natalia twist in her bed so she could kick him instead of you- he bolted up from the bed to avoid any further assaults. “You’re rude,” you hissed shamelessly, before lunging to your darling Natalia so you could wrap arms around her. He mumbled a profanity and slapped at your feet- apparently not much had changed despite the events from the evening before.

“You didn’t say that last night-“ Oh he must have been waiting years to be able to use that schoolyard taunt. You remained unphazed, and happily snuggled closer to your friend. Nevada may be the King of the Heights and now hold a special spot somewhere in your heart- but he would not be able to tear your attention from your precious Natalia.

“Don’t matter,” she teased, wriggling a bit in her seat to prove how unconcerned she was, “you keep being so mean and she’ll find her a nice boy,” Natalia pet at your hair and you stuck your tongue out to further the threat, “don’t blow your chances- Bub.”

\---

Nevada had started staying over at your & Natalia's much more often since she and precious Lillian had been released. It wasn’t abnormal, even when you had your own apartment; the two siblings stayed with each other often. They were the same person; you'd joke about it sometimes when Natalia was being particularly stubborn or difficult. She hated it, but nobody could refute the sentiment. What was Natalia’s was Nevada’s, and the reciprocal was often also true. The apartment had three bedrooms, one was intended for lovely Lillian but Natalia still insisted on keeping her in the bassinet.

The baby books, she’d argue- they suggest until 6 months old now.

Why oh why did you buy her all those books?

It was easier in the bassinet anyway, you decided eventually. Nevada had bought her a darling one, on wheels- when Natalia was too tired and in desperate need of sleep after a feeding, the wailing babe would be wheeled alongside your bed. It was instinctual for you to awake at her crying, be it Lillian's or Natalia's. If Nevada had chosen to accompany you in your room per the becoming-usual, he'd mumble and wander off to the free bedroom. You girls could switch around baby duties- he had other things to do come the morning.

Morning, evening: it all blended together. You and Natalia lived in the world of parenthood, where the sun didn’t dictate a thing- night was when sweet Lillian found dreamland, and usually one or both of you girls would sleep as well. On the couch, in Natalia's bed, in yours when Nevada wasn't around- anywhere was fair game for your tired eyes. Day was whenever the baby was awake; you three would recite songs, bounce Lillian until her tears ceased, and play with silly toys such as green giraffes and little lions with silly smirks on their faces.

It worked well, your arrangement- you’d cook, clean, and take over parental responsibilities when Natalia was too exhausted. Honestly, your household duties took up most of your time- your lovely best friend was a wonderful mother. Sometimes you’d even have to force her to let you take over, when you’d notice her nodding off or those desperate little tears start to form when she couldn’t quite get Lillian to calm down.

You were so, so proud of her.  
Of both of them, really.

Lillian was putting on weight beautifully, Natalia was slowly beginning to become herself again- baby blues were a funny thing. There had been a few weeks where she was so weepy, Nevada avoided your apartment for days at a time, swearing he couldn't stomach seeing his sister so lowly. He'd have you meet him elsewhere: his apartment, the cafe, the new club he had decided he liked.

You were always on call: whether it is for one Ramirez or another. When Natalia whimpered your name in her sweet begging tone, you'd be at her side and imploring to know how you could help best. When Lillian whined and fussed, be it the middle of the night or mid-day while your best friend got some well-deserved rest- it would take you moments to gather her in your arms. When Nevada gave you a ring on your cell or came to knock at the door, you always answered, then would be bustled off in a car with a driver of his or he'd follow you around the apartment like a lost puppy.

Little had changed between you and Nevada, honestly, considering this arrangement you all had settled on. Besides sharing a bed -and each other-, his taunts were still never ending.

Things didn't really break the norm until one day, a few weeks later, when you received a text telling you to _'dress nice and bring your brain'_. What did that mean? You had no idea, but apparently you had plans with Nevada this evening.

\---

“Stop dressing like a niña. If you want champagne you gotta be as classy as the drink,” Nevada grunted objectingly, even though it was something you had worn out with him plenty of times before. “You’re a woman, put real clothes on.” A gruff tug at your skirt, before you grumpily took a few steps to leave you out of his reach. "Anyone can see your ass when you bend over."

“You care to tell me what I’m dressing for, then?” He was annoying you; you didn’t even want to go wherever he was insisting on taking you. The promises of champagne and good food didn’t outweigh the desire to stay home with Lillian and Natalia- but apparently he ‘needed’ you. Lately, that meant you two would abscond off to the bedroom for more carnal handling, but not this time. Considering he was your employer, and some would argue he was also your man, you didn’t have much room to argue.

Nevada rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and then stormed past you to fish through your closet, nearly knocking you off your feet when his shoulder hit yours. Nope, nope, nope; he haphazardly tossed the dresses from the hangers to the floor, and you scowled while running up behind him to save them. “Will you stop it, I do all the laundry now, you’re such a hassle-”

"You need new fucking clothes, Niñita-" Since when did he become so critical of your wardrobe? "Half this shit barely counts as clothes, like this!?" Damningly, he held up the same exact dress he had asked about when he first moved you out of your own apartment, the one too short for you to wear anywhere- "You were something like this in public, I'll string up any fucker who looks at you." His jealousy was both intriguing and misplaced, but it was nice to see him squirm a bit.

Clothes dangled hopelessly from your arms, and the dress he suddenly disliked was added atop the stack. "You never cared when I wore stuff like this before," you were mostly talking to yourself, but he paused theatrically at the smart remark. He twist, so he mostly faced you, and rammed his fist down upon your bundle so they all fell hopelessly at your feet.

"I wasn't the one taking them off then," Nevada turned back to the closet, "had to get my kicks lookin' at ya somehow." Without offering any explanation, he instead fumbled through the gowns you hid towards the back of your collection. “This.” He found a blue midi dress, one with short sleeves that reached to your knees. It was an old one, you hadn’t worn it forever- he had teased you for being ‘mojigato’ when you last had it on. “This’ll do.”

That made you much, much more suspicious. “Nevada, where are we going?” The dress was snatched from his hands, and you lay it delicately on your bed.

“No jewelry, you don’t need to be all flashy,” he jokingly tugged at your ears, pointing out the gold hoops you had in. A minimal pain shot through your head, and you slapped him away from you. “Now hurry up, we gotta be there in an hour.”

His arms were crossed over his chest, and you waited expectantly for him to take his exit. "May I change now?" the sass was unwarranted, you knew it, but he only smirked devilishly in response. There was no such thing as privacy in your life, not anymore.

"Siii," Nevada taunted, and shamelessly crossed the room upon noting your hesitation. Your brow rose suspiciously, and you carefully stepped away until the back of your shins hit the foot of the bed, forcing you to sit.

He didn't stop, instead he fell to his knees with a too-loud thud and helped himself to hooking thumbs into the waistband of the skirt he had rejected. While giggling, you raised your hips from the covers, and he gladly assisted in tugging the shiny material down your legs. "I thought you were in a rush?" You teased in a whisper, and pressed toes to his chest so he'd be forced to lean backwards when you straightened your right leg out between you. An obstacle he'd love to overcome.

"I'm helping," Nevada insisted bluntly, and then grabbed hold around your ankle and shin so he could easily hike that leg over his shoulder. Lips pressed to the inside of your thigh, just above your knee, and his thumbs tightened hard enough to send tingles of hellfire through you when they moved to the crease where your legs met your hips. "Why you always gotta complain?" he mumbled, though it was muffled against your skin.

A smooth dive, and your whole body twitched in anticipation, his hot breath was suddenly flooding over your core. A whimper, and you could feel his lips curl into a smile through the barrier your panties provided. A quick nip, and he gathered a bunch of the black silk in his teeth- you literally jumped in surprise of feeling the pressure of his mouth against you. Shameless Nevada traveled back down your leg, the evening stubble on his chin scraping mercilessly along the lily soft skin of your thighs until your ankle finally fell from his shoulder. "You don't need those," he grumbled after dropping your underwear into his palm.

Just as soon as it started, it was all over, and he climbed up to his feet while leaving you half-disrobed on the bed. "Now hurry the fuck up," he grumbled while turning to walk out of the room. "If you're a good girl, I'll finish what I started-"

The door slammed behind him, and you moaned into the silence before throwing yourself back on the bed. His new means of torturing you was increasingly frustrating, you decided. It'd gone from schoolyard taunts to sexual fantasies you hadn't even known were buried in the recesses of your brain.

Since he was finally gone, you did as was earlier ordered, and went to dressing in the surprisingly modest dress he had chosen from you. Next time he bitched about your wardrobe, you'd insist he purchase you a new one- you decided to yourself while wriggling into your outfit. But for now, you had an undeniable desire bubbling in the pit of your stomach- to be the 'good girl' that would get to finish in his game later.

\---

_"You come looking for me, you found me. Now I do the talking, chico."_

Your eyes rolled, but you hid it by pretending to examine some of the architecture behind your guest.

_"What good are you? You're small. You're more bait than shark."_

You still didn't understand your purpose, or why you were even here. _"You say you're useful, you haven't even been used yet, chico."_ However, Nevada had kept his word. You were twirling a flute of champagne in your hand, fingers dancing delicately around the stem. The men were talking; Nevada asked questions you didn't know the context for, and the boy across from you squirmed.

Carefully, you tried to discern what was going on. It almost felt like a job interview of sorts, or a roundabout interrogation. _"Familia, chico. You know what it means?_ Nevada spoke about unity, about protecting The Heights, about trust and loyalty. Despite the serious tone of the conversation, his fingertips trailed back and forth along the soft velvet of your dress, over your lap. _"How do I know you do? How far would you go for familia?"_ It wasn't to feel you up, though- he'd have no qualms boldly going about that. He was fidgeting, fumbling; thoughtful. _"Why should I waste a chance on you?"_

You couldn't stand it anymore, if this kid took another five minutes to answer every goddamn question your man spat his way- you three would be here all night. Loudly, though unsure where this bravado bubbled from, you spoke up after dropping your champagne to the table with a clink; "Stop mumbling."

Quiet, from both men, and all eyes turned to you. Even a body guard who stood off to the side twist from his stony stillness to look your way. The boy twisted nervously in his seat, and his eyes went wide. "Wh-what?" Apparently your silence had rendered you as invisible as you had thought- but now you were suddenly a part of the discussion. Nevada splayed his fingers out over your skirt in reaction to you finding your voice, but didn't hush you; at least, not in time.

"It's not a stutter," you pointed out sharply while tipping your glass his way. If he had a stutter, you wouldn't have said anything, but it wasn't an innocent defect. The boy was mumbling and it was awfully grinding; you even understood Spanish, so you were well aware he was just tumbling his tongue over gibberish. "You're mumbling." Expecting Nevada to try and reel you in, you tried to finish your statement before he could: "If you mean what you say, you'll say it. Loudly."

His dark eyes shot immediately to Nevada, and he waited patiently for any sort of response, as did you. Would Trujillo punish you for speaking out of turn; smack at your leg, chastise you for intervening? Remind you not to interrupt when the 'men' were talking?

In a move that surprised the both of you, Nevada instead went to nodding, eerily calmly. "Speak up," he grunted, as if it were more than obvious. The fact he agreed with you perked your brow, but you tried not to look too terribly surprised. A smug smirk slowly took over as he reached over towards the bucket of ice to retrieve the bottle of champagne that had been ordered at the beginning of this 'meeting'. You were the only one drinking it, proven when he only bothered refilling your glass.

"Yea, yea, yea-" The boy grumbled while readjusting his position in his chair. It wasn't until then that you finally noticed this stranger didn't have any drinks of his own. What was this, why were they all discussing vague details of Nevada's affairs?

No matter, you figured after boring yourself with the consideration. Soon it would be over and you'd be back home, with your girls. Shortly after your interruption, the discussion continued.

And the damn boy still couldn't keep from mumbling, which led you to become much more interested in your champagne than him or your man.

\---

He had been dismissed shortly after your outburst. Well, it didn't seem like much of an outburst- but you predicted that's what Nevada would consider it, since you apparently couldn't bite your tongue appropriately while he conducted business.

"What'd you think?" Nevada whispered, while leaning closer to rest his temple against your head.

You furrowed your brows, and rocked your head away from him. "About what?"

Green eyes rolled, and he reached over to run a fingertip along the rim of your glass. “The fuckin’ kid, Niñita, what’d you think about him?”

Maybe it was the champagne- but for some reason, you found the question humorous. What did _you_ think about the kid? The fuck did it matter? “Mr. Mumbley over here?”

“You’re being a bitch,” Nevada accused harshly, and elbowed you in your side just hard enough to make you cringe. “Can’t you take anything seriously? This is my fuckin’ work I’m askin’ you about, grow the fuck up.”

Your jaw fell, and you hastily snatched your glass out of his reach. “I am grown up,” you fussed loudly, just boisterous enough to convince the guard to take a few steps away. Nobody interrupted Nevada’s conversations, except for you apparently, which gave you free reign of his attention. “Ya can’t trust someone who mumbles,” you added smartly, while condescendingly wagging a finger into his face. “If someone mumbles, they don’t mean what they say,” you recited while cocking your head from side to side.

“Where did you hear that shit?” Nevada unblushingly reached across to snag the glass you were trying to hide. Your unwillingness to share only made him want it more. Proudly, he chugged the rest of your beverage, and handed back the empty flute.

To showcase your disapproval, you crunched your nose, and crossed your arms over your chest while reclining into your seat. “Doesn’t matter,” you advised gruffly before purposely twisting your face so you wouldn’t have to look at him. Your father had told you that, long long ago, back when you were young. “I just know its fuckin’ true.”

He chewed on his lip, you noticed his jaw clench. While he was lost in a few moments of contemplation, he again rest his head against yours. Unlike before, you allowed it, and even allowed yourself a moment of precious vulnerability to lean yourself on his shoulder.

Before you could ask about the next plans he had, or worry about whatever was coming next- Nevada placed a palm on your face to twist your head his way. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested surprisingly softly, while running a thumb along your jaw line. Something about the way his eyes squint- it was as if he was looking for something, deep down in your eyes.

“Where we going, Vada?” It was asked airily, and the lascivious smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth made it clear he was quite excited about whatever he had planned. Before answering, he pressed his lips to yours, and gave your bottom lip a soft nip. You sighed, and he broke the connection, promptly rising to his feet and tugging on your arms to convince you to hurry along and join him.

Once you obediently stood, he slid his palms against your skirt- down, down, over your hips so they could slide unblushingly to confirm his suspicions. One hand landed on your pelvis, his thumbs tracing the area between your legs; the other went over your ass- his lips landed against the back of your throat before he swat at your derriere hard enough to make you yelp, despite the goosebumps erupting on your skin.

You hadn’t bothered to put panties back on after he had removed them earlier in the day.

“Weeeeee,” he sang cheerily, and bit at your earlobe so you’d let out a sultry whimper. Nevada guided you with a firm hold on your waist, now apparently in a firm rush to get you two out of the restaurant and back to his car, “are going to my place,” he paused just before the front door, to drag you roughly backwards so you’d be forced flush against his hips- you could feel his growing excitement pressing hard against his jeans. “So I can prove how to make my good girl go bad.”

Maybe this would be worth the trouble, after all.


End file.
